


The Chinese Locus

by penrosewriter



Series: The Adventures of Janelock Holmes [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Romance, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Feels, Femlock, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Genderbending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introducing Sherlock's "rival", Murder Mystery, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, New Character - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Relationship(s), Romance, Secrets, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock needs to learn more about women sometimes, Sherlock shenanigans, girl!john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penrosewriter/pseuds/penrosewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Jane moves into 221B, the pair adjust to their new lifestyle. The pair must learn how to cooperate, and trust, as well as taking down a smuggling ring on the side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Break In

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the second installment for my series. I hope you all like it. And to those who haven't read "Seeing Pink" I would go back and read it, just so you won't get confused.  
> Anyway, I hope I did this chapter justice :D

 She’d just gotten up, sitting at her arm chair reading the paper.

"Can you believe this???" Jane asked angrily, jabbing at the newspaper.

"Hm?" Sherlock's head slowly rose from observing under the microscope.

"Look at this! For the suicide cases, they only mentioned you once and then they gave Lestrade all of the credit!!" Jane raved angrily, cheeks flushing.

Listening to her rant, Sherlock slowly sighed and sat up.

"You should know-"

"This is outrageous!"

"Jane-"

"-I mean, why do you even put up with it??"

"Jane! I-"

"What is the matter with-"

"JANE." Sherlock raised his voice, making her jump.

"What?" Jane stopped talking and looked over at Sherlock.

"You should know that I requested for them to not give me credit."

"But why?"

"Think. If everyone saw my face on the front page, how easy would it be to work?”

“…Easy enough since you just work for the police.”

“Oh come now, that was Anderson logic. Really Jane, I’d think you’d be able to think outside the-” Sherlock chided her as if scolding a small child.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Please tell me why you don’t want all the credit.”

“I work on the field. If I suspected you for a murder and came to talk to you, one would recognize me, and make my job all the more trifling.”

“Oh. It’s more than that though, isn’t it?”

“Sorry?”

“You do it to piss off your brother.”

“I am hardly that petty-”

“Yeah you are, the both of you. He’s always trying to get you to go public, you’re always trying to stay out of the public. It’s always been that way hasn’t it? You two bantering back and forth.” Huffing at her, he returned to his microscope.

“Well you’re completely wrong. I am not a child.”

“Oh, alright, sure.” Rolling her eyes, she returned to the paper. Checking his phone, Sherlock was suddenly on his feet, shoving her into her coat, and practically started shoving her outside.

“Hey-oi! What D’you think you’re doing?”

“I need you to go get milk.”

“I was going to go later, after I had my tea!”

“Well, you are going now!”

“Says who?”

“Says me, now go!”

“If you want milk so much, go get it yourself!”

“No, I’m terribly busy, you need to go now goodbye!”

Slamming the door in her face, Jane gave the door the most evil glare she could muster before squaring her shoulders to go complete her duty.

***

Slamming open the door, Jane stomped up the stairs.

"Ah, Jane. Did you get the milk?" Shooting him a glare, Jane stalked to the kitchen without saying a word.

"Jane? I asked-"

"I heard you. And no, I did not get your precious milk." Jane snapped.

"Really, why? You took long enough."

"Because I had a fight with a PIN machine ok??" At this, Sherlock's eye raised.

"Really?" He asked slowly, trying to imagine the scenario.

"Yeah. The stupid thing would scan my stuff, and whenever I swiped my card trying to pay for it, it would not work! I had to start over five times!”

“So you took a swing at the machine.” Sherlock gave her a lopsided smirk.

“More like I just shouted abuse at it and it did nothing, but I was holding up the line so I had to leave. Could I borrow your card?"

"Yes, it's on the table." Sherlock replied, shooting an amused smile at her when she wasn’t looking.

"Thanks." She said shortly, grabbing the card.

"You're angry."

"Yeah. I am funny enough."

"Why?"

"Hm, let's think. I've been out for an hour after you woke me up and threw me out, and while I was in a fight, you very well could have gone and did the shopping since you did absolutely nothing at all!"

Keeping an air of disinterest, Sherlock casually shoved the sword farther behind the chair with his foot. True, forcefully making her leave at seven to go grocery shopping could be viewed as suspicious, but the assassin was getting there at seven-fifteen. Having Mycroft disable her card at the grocery store really was a good idea. It was better to keep her out during the interesting fight he’d just had. She would have gotten in the way for certain.

"How was the diamond case?"

"Not interested."

"Not interested? It's a missing diamond Sherlock. How could that not be interesting?" Jane shook her head at him.

"You and I have very different ideas on the concept of 'interesting'.”

“And-Sherlock, where’d you get this bruise?” Jane frowned as she looked at the bruise on his face.

“It looks like you’re the one who got into some kind of fight while I was gone!”

“Don’t be ridiculous Jane, I’ve been sitting here all morning!” Sherlock protested.

“Uh huh. Were you now?” Jane suspiciously eyed him, hand on hip.

“Yes.” Sherlock deadpanned, looking her straight in the eye as he spoke.

"Alright, then I’m going."

Once she was gone, Sherlock went up to her room. Looking around, he noticed how neat she kept her room. Her bed was folded and tucked to the point where there was hardly a wrinkle on the duvet. Her dresser was tidy with nothing on it except her gun and laptop. Picking up her laptop, Sherlock opened it to find it locked. Now there was a mystery. What was her password? This was probably the fourth time she's changed the passcode since he started using it. Jane was practical to a fault, meaning the passcode would most likely be also something sensible and something that she'd remember. Her birthday? Unlikely due to how common that password was. Name of a person's? Questionable, since she is not what people would call “tight-knit” with her family and her few friends.

Opening the top drawer, he found small miscellaneous items. A small pocket Bible with a photo inside it. A photo of her beside a woman with blue eyes and brown hair, military uniform, Afghanistan. It was never read, but she still kept it close. Most likely given to by the woman in the photo who at some point was killed during service. Near the book was her dog tags. Picking it up, he mumbled aloud: "23 Northumberland Fusiliers." That would be too much to write, and since she was in the Royal Army Medical Corps... Writing out 'RAMC23' he pushed enter and was immediately logged in.

Smiling, he took her computer downstairs. Flipping open his inbox, Sherlock found an email waiting for him from...Sebastian Wilkes. Opening it, he began reading.

***

Jane nudged the door open with her foot, carrying the groceries.

"The Calvary is here. Mind you to make the milk last this time, I can't afford to get any more groceries until next week." Jane sighed, setting the groceries down.

"Mm." Ignoring her, but taking note of the financial mention, Sherlock scanned over the email.

“How did this scratch get here?”

“What scratch?” Sherlock asked, looking up.

Oh, that one. In his fight with the assassin, his sword scraped the table.

“From an experiment.”

“Try not to destroy the whole bloody thing, yeah?” Jane shook her head before noticing the laptop.

"Sherlock. That is my laptop."

"Sound assumption."

"It was in my room." Jane hinted at him.

"Dually noted." Throwing up her hands, Jane gave him a look of exasperation.

"We've been over this Sherlock! I keep my personal space from your room, and you do the same for me! And since you obviously know my passcode, that meant you went rifling through my things!" Jane huffed, before stalking over and snatching back her laptop.

"Look. Don't you ever go through my personal things again, okay? It may look interesting, but it's private. It's not something I'd be comfortable with people just looking through okay?" Jane said tiredly, before looking at the overdue bills by her arm chair.

"Ugh, I need to get a job." She moaned, rubbing her temple.

"A job?"

"Yeah. I need to get off my pension and get a job, but no one's hiring me." Taking a deep breath, Jane looked over at Sherlock, and as if her words were physically hurting her she spoke:

"I swore never to do this to someone, ever. But..." Inhaling through her nose, Jane awkwardly looked away before trying again.

"Can I borrow some...money?"

Looking back at the email, he noticed that the email had said "In advance money".

Thinking for a moment, Sherlock got an idea and stood up.

“I would pay you back, straight away, with interest, and-"

"I need to go to the bank." He announced, donning his coat and scarf.

"The bank?" Jane shrugged on her jacket and followed after him. Getting into the cab, Jane looked over at him curiously.

"How come?" She asked.

"To see an old 'friend'." Sherlock replied shortly before looking out the window again, ending the conversation.

If Jane needed money, she’d get it. He was not worried or concerned, it’d just stop her griping. That was all.

***

Arriving at the bank, Jane looked around at all the men and women in suits, rushing past.

"So, your friend works here...?" Ignoring her, Sherlock pushed open the door. Going up the elevator, Jane looked around at the massive sky lights all over the bank, and the modern designs.

“Pretty posh place.” She observed as Sherlock walked up to a desk.

“I’m here to see Sebastian Wilkes.” Sherlock said stiffly to the secretary and waited for Jane to come as well.

Once the secretary led them up to an office, Jane wrinkled her nose slightly as the man shook Sherlock’s hand.

“Hey old buddy, how’ve you been, it’s been about eight years since I’ve seen ya!” Jane watched the man shake Sherlock’s hand, false smile intact.

“Hello, Sebastian.” Sherlock nodded coolly at him.

“And who is this lovely young woman?” Sebastian gave a broad smile once he saw Jane.

“This is my friend, Jane Watson.”

“Friend?” Sebastian scoffed, sneering at Sherlock.

“Colleague!” Jane intervened swiftly. The last thing they needed was to fight a business man.

“Yeah, I figured. Sherlock’s never had friends, so why would he with you?”

Jane looked over at Sherlock who avoided her eyes, which was rather uncharacteristic of the man.

“So, tea, coffee?”

“No. You’ve been abroad a lot.” Sherlock said, sitting down, Jane likewise.

“Ah, just here and there.”

“I wouldn’t call traveling the world twice in the last month ‘here and there’.”

“You’re doing that weird ‘thing’.” Sebastian laughed before looking at Jane.

“We were at Uni together, and this guy here had this trick he used to do.”

“It’s not a trick… it is simply observation.”

“He would look at you, and then recite your life story.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s really fantastic.” Jane stood up for Sherlock, eyes all but smiling at this point.

“Fantastic? I wouldn’t call it that. We all hated him for it.” Sebastian chuckled, hands folded together.

Jane looked concernedly over at Sherlock as she watched his eyes downcast, quiet, and hurt.

“He would go down at breakfast and actually know who’d been with who the last night.”

“I simply observed.” Sherlock stated monotonously.

“Ok, so how’d you know? Two trips around the world. What, was it some kind of dirt on my shoe…”

“No, actually-"

“…A fleck of dust in my hair from Greenland, or some special ketchup on my tie you can only find in Manhattan?” Sebastian mocked Sherlock, laughing.

“Why no. I was just chatting with your secretary.” Sherlock gave him a sardonic smile.

Forcing out a fake laugh for a rather long time, Sebastian then looked over at Jane, leaning in slightly.

“So, Jane Watson huh? Could I call you Jane?”

“Doctor Watson will do, thank you.” Jane said politely, hands folded.

“Oh, so you’re a doctor? How interesting.” Sebastian smiled at her, eyes raking over her body.

Clenching her fists in her lap, Jane tried her best to maintain the ever-so-hard to maintain smile, ignoring the eerie shiver down her spine.

“So what seems to be the issue Sebastian?” Sherlock interrupted his flirtations, glaring.

“We’ve had a break in.” Sebastian said, getting up and motioned for them to follow.

“A robbery?” Jane questioned.

“Yes.”

“Did he steal anything?” Sherlock asked, looking around.

“No, but he left this. This is the office of Sir William, the founder. We’ve left it as a memorial for him, so nothing of importance is in the room.”

Once they reached the “trading floor” Sebastian swiped a security card, and opened the door. Looking up at the painting which was assumedly the founder, Jane and Sherlock frowned when they saw yellow paint that looked somewhat as an eight dashed across the elderly man’s eyes in the painting. Scanning over the painting and their surroundings, Sherlock took it all in, no doubt forming ideas and conclusions. When they returned to the office, Sebastian showed them the footage, each sixty seconds apart.

“Basically some guy broke in, splashed paint around, then left all within a minute.”

“How many ways into that office?”

“Well, that is where things get interesting.” Sebastian pulled up the security layout of the bank.

“Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged in on this. Every cabinet, every toilet.”

“That door didn’t open last night.” Jane said, reading the security status on it.

Turning to Sherlock, Sebastian filled out a cheque.

“There’s a hole in our security. Find it, and I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t need an incentive, Sebastian.” Sherlock snarled, brushing past him.

“Sorry, he’s kidding. I’ll watch that for him.” Sebastian put the cheque in her hand, his hand staying a bit longer than necessary.

“This is five figures!” Jane gasped, looking up at him in shock.

“Yeah, and I can definitely give him more, and you as well. So, colleague then. Not too close to him?” Sebastian smirked at her as she put the cheque in her wallet.

“I haven’t known him terribly long.” Jane smiled tightly, not mentioning the fact she had already killed for the man.

Nodding to himself, Sebastian smirked at her.

“Not your boyfri-”

“Jane, come here, I require your assistance.”

Sherlock suddenly barked. Walking over, she smiled bemusedly at him.

“Yeah?” Thrusting his phone at her he commanded:

“Take photos where I tell you to.”

After getting the pictures for him, (why he couldn’t take them himself, she had no idea), he looked over at the ceiling to floor windows. Pulling the blinds, Sherlock found a balcony on the other side. Opening the door, he stepped out on the balcony. Looking down at the long drop, Sherlock felt his stomach lurch slightly. He hated heights. Scoping out the view and balcony, Sherlock bit his lip slightly, which Jane had come to notice that he did that when he knew something.

“Anything?” Jane tilted her head at him in question.

Not answering, he slipped back inside. Going back to the trading floor, Jane really had no idea what Sherlock was doing at this point. Ducking up and down, Sherlock would look at the painting, then would crouch down and walk to another position and then look up. Honestly, Sherlock reminded Jane of a meerkat. He put on quite a show. Sometimes he would pop up from behind a desk, other times he would walk sideways and then backwards. Watching him, Jane shook her head. He really did not care how ridiculous he looked. Leaning against the wall next to her, Sebastian began talking to her.

“Not his friend, not his girlfriend. How can you even stand being in the same room with him?”

Lifting her head off the wall slightly, Jane scoffed at him.

“Is this really how you start off conversations with people?”

“It is an honest question. I spent University with that lunatic, and I could hardly stand him.”

“Might have been that way for you, but not for me. I think he is quite skilled.”

“Oh, by no doubt he is skilled and intelligent, that is what he lives by. However, you should now that he does get bored easily.”

“Got that figured out for myself funny enough.” Jane retorted snarkily.

“You are honestly way too beautiful to not have a boyfriend. I mean…you do have a boyfriend, don’t you?” Jane knew exactly where this was going, and fought off the impulse to gag.

“Yea, not really interested in dating, thanks.” She said shortly.

“Surely though, you could take an interest?” Sebastian simpered, touching a strand of her hair, making Jane stiffen.

“No, I really don’t think I could.”

“I think you could darling.” Sebastian said suavely, twirling her hair around his finger.

Jane was trying to back away when Sherlock took her by the shoulders and man-handled her out of reach from Sebastian.

“I’ve seen enough. We’re leaving.” Sherlock turned on his heel and walked away, taking Jane’s hand and pulling her along with him. Going down the escalator, she sighed, and looked up at him.

“Thanks.” She said, smiling slightly.

“We’re here for business, not flirtations.”

“Of course.” Jane glanced over at Sherlock and chuckled.

“What?” Sherlock asked, turning to look over at her.

“Two trips around the world, in one month. You just said that to irritate him, didn’t you?” Smiling, Sherlock turned his head back around.

“How did you know that though?” Jane asked, leaning on the escalator.

“His watch. Time was right, date was wrong. He crossed the dateline twice but he didn’t change it. His watch, which its name is ‘Breitling Chronometer Crosswind’ also was released last month in February.” Smiling at him, Jane shook her head. Leave it to Sherlock to know all about ponce watches.

“Oh, uh…you’re still holding my hand.” Jane laughed awkwardly, her small hand slipping out of his large gloved one.

“Oh, yes…um…” Not sure where to look, Sherlock decided to just look straight ahead.

“So, we’re done here? Do you need to keep looking around?”

“Nope. I have all of the information I require. We are going to Vancoon’s flat next.” Sherlock responded, hailing a cab, and opening the door for Jane to come in.

“Who’s Vancoon?” Jane arched an eyebrow as Sherlock gave directions.

“Didn’t you read the plaques? On one of them was ‘Richard Vancoon’.”

“I don’t follow.” Giving her a frustrated sigh, he began to explain.

“How many pillars did you see Jane?”

“I saw…three.”

“Sir Williams’s room is obscured from view unless you sit in one certain spot. There were three trading spots, and I tried to find other places you could see the painting, and couldn’t. The only place you can see the painting is from the desk of Vancoon. He works in Hong Kong trading, and since traders work there at late hours, the paint was made there at midnight for a reason.”

“…The person left the paint there so Vancoon could see it? But why?”

“A threat, a deal…we will find out shortly.” Sitting back, the two watched the scenery pass through the windows.

“You know…Sebastian. Was he your friend?” Jane finally asked Sherlock.

“Once.”

“But…why? I mean, he kept saying that he always hated you.”

“He was lying. He didn’t always hate me. At one point, he held a high regard for me.”

“So, what made him not like you?” Jane frowned.

“None of your business.”

“I’m not trying to pry.” Jane raised her hands in defence as Sherlock resumed his moody glare out the window.


	2. Vancoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Jane proceed to work on the case, and spend the day investigating murders, and eating salad. In other words, their typical day.

Exiting the cab, Sherlock rang Vancoon’s buzzer. When no one answered for a minute, Sherlock rang again to find there was still silence on the other line.

“Maybe we should wait for him to come back?” Jane offered.

Looking over the name plates, Sherlock noticed something, and smirked.

“What?” Jane asked, walking up behind him.

“This woman has just moved in.” All of the names were engraved except for one which had a piece of paper with the name “Ms. Wintle” with drawn flowers on it.

“Maybe, she just changed it?” Jane offered.

Giving her a _‘hardly likely’_ look, he made sure she could not be seen on the camera and rang the buzzer.

“Hello?” A woman picked up on the other side.

“Oh, uh, hello! I don’t think we’ve met, I live in the flat just below you!” Sherlock put on a friendly face, messing with his collar awkwardly.

“No, I just moved in…”

Sherlock gave Jane a smirk out of the corner of his eye and continued his charade.

“This is-well, an awkward way of meeting each other, but I um, well, I seemed to have locked my keys in my flat!” Sherlock sighed sheepishly, biting his lip.

“Oh! Should I ring you in then?”

“Oh that would be, so lovely! Oh and, can I use your balcony?”

“What?” Jane and the woman asked at the same time.

“Sure…but why?”

“Oh, to get into my flat, thanks!” Hanging up, Sherlock opened the door.

***

Climbing out onto the balcony, Jane in tow, Sherlock climbed up.

“Go to the door Jane, I’ll let you in.” Sherlock instructed, going from one balcony to the one further down.

Finding the window unlocked, Sherlock slipped in, looking around. It was obviously the home of a wealthy person, the place modern, and very expensive looking. Opening the fridge, Sherlock found it full of bottles of champagne.

“Sherlock?” He heard Jane call from the door, knocking. Ignoring her, he proceeded to look in the bathroom, finding expensive soap, and it very clean.

“Are you okay?” Jane’s voice sounded worried as she rattled the door knob.

Trying to open what he presumed was the bedroom, he found it locked.

“Hey, anytime you feel obligated to let me in!” Turning to his side, he broke the door open, to find a dead man sprawled on the bed. Bullet in his temple, a pistol on the floor. Hearing the door crash open, he backed out of the bedroom to see that Jane had broken the door down.

“Seriously? You could’ve just let me in!” Jane growled, shoving her gun into her belt.

Going back into the bedroom, Sherlock looked over the man.

“So…Vancoon’s dead then?”

“Call Scotland Yard Jane.” Pulling out her phone, she made a call, while Sherlock took out a magnifying glass to look over the bullet hole.

“They’re on their way.”

“What does this look like to you Jane?” Sherlock stood up, allowing her room to examine the body.

“Let’s see…gun on the floor, his hand was near it…Sherlock, I think it’s a suicide.”

“Why?”

“Was the door locked from the inside?”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied, shrugging off his coat and gloves.

“Then he would’ve had to been the only one in here. That’s common in suicide.” When Sherlock looked irritated and looked away, Jane felt confused.

“I’m...correct, aren’t I?”

“No. It wasn’t a suicide!”

“What?”

“It wasn’t Jane! Look at the angles, it-it’s not right! It’s wrong!” Sherlock tried to explain, ruffling his hair. Looking at the body, Jane tilted her head. How could it not be? A gun not far from his hand, the locked doors, bullet in his temple with no exit wound, it all made sense to her. For Sherlock though, perhaps not.

“Not even close...none of it is…” He muttered as Scotland Yard began to filter in slowly.

“Sherlock?” She tried to prod, but Sherlock began speaking with the others. As Sherlock put on latex gloves and Scotland Yard snapped pictures of the body, Jane went up to Sherlock.

“Maybe he lost a lot of money Sherlock. You seem to forget that suicide is rather common for city boys.”

“We do not know that it was a suicide Jane. Making an assumption on a case is illogical.”

“But he locked himself in Sherlock! I don’t see where you are coming from here!” Jane threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Been away three days, judging by his laundry. Look at the case Jane, there was something tightly packed in it.” Sherlock was squatting by a suitcase, going through the things.

“Thanks…I think I will take your word on that.” Jane answered, grimacing.

“Problem?”

“Well…I don’t really want to go through a dead guy’s dirty underwear...” Shrugging as if to say _Suit yourself_ , Sherlock closed the suitcase.

“Those symbols at the bank…the graffiti. Why were they put up there?” Sherlock pondered, wandering to the foot of the bed.

“Well, a code right?” Jane suggested.

“Oh, obviously, Jane. What kind though?”

Carefully opening Vancoon’s jacket he peered in, trying to find some sort of clue.

“Why was it painted? Couldn’t they have found a more discreet way to communicate than an obvious spot like a painting? Why not use a phone or email?”

At this point, Jane wasn’t sure if he was asking her or himself.

“Maybe he wasn’t answering.” Jane said wryly.

“Oh good, then you follow.” Sherlock looked up at her, missing the blatant sarcasm.

“Sarcasm Sherlock. I don’t actually follow.”

“What kind of message would everyone try to avoid?”

“What?” Jane frowned in confusion.

“Like the bills you were avoiding until this morning Jane. Something inevitable.”

Prying open Vancoon’s mouth, Sherlock fished out a small, ebony, origami flower.

“Yes…he was being threatened.”

“Bag that up, will you?” Jane heard a man shout from outside the bedroom.

Getting an evidence bag for Sherlock, Jane looked over to see who was talking.

“And see if you can get prints off this glass.” A young male officer entered the room just as Sherlock finished getting up the evidence.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I am Sherlock Holmes, and my colleague Jane Watson.” Sherlock offered his hand, but the officer put his hand on hips and glared.

“Yeah. I know who you two are. And if it doesn’t mess with your schedule, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t tamper with the evidence.” He snapped sharply at Sherlock, making his hand shrink back.

“Hey, he found that for you! I have a feeling autopsy wouldn’t have been able to in time to catch the murderer!” Jane protested, glaring up at the detective.

“I’m sorry, but no one asked you, young lady.”

“Sorry for stating the obvious you-”

“-I called Lestrade. Is he on his way?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the man as he practically threw the evidence at him.

“Busy, in fact. I’m in charge. I’m Detective Inspector Dimmock.” Turning on his heel, he stalked into the main room again, leaving Sherlock to sneer slightly at him.

“C’mon Sherlock. Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Jane looked at him sympathetically as she joined the inspector.

“We’re obviously looking at a suicide.” Dimmock sniffed as he looked around the flat.

“Wrong. It’s only one possible explanation to some of the facts.”

“What are you talking about?” Dimmock sighed, his patience with Sherlock tethering.

“You have a solution that you fancy, but you are choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn’t go with your theory.”

“Like?”

“The wound was on the right side of his head.”

“So?” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

How this man became an inspector was beyond him.

“Vancoon was left handed.” Demonstrating, Sherlock used his left hand to point an imaginary gun at his right temple.

“Requires quite a bit of strain.”

“Left handed?” Dimmock shook his head.

“Oh, I’m amazed that you didn’t noticed. All you stupid lot have to do is simply look at the flat! Coffee table on the left hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left.” When he saw Dimmock was still sceptical, Sherlock continued.

“The power sockets, he used the ones on the left, pen and paper on the left hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took notes with his left! Jane, do you think they need any more examples?”

“I think everyone has the picture Sherlock.” Jane sighed, rubbing her temple.

“Oh, one more Jane, I’m at the bottom of the list anyway.”

Looking at him as if to say _go on_ , Sherlock continued.

“There’s a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used his left.” Giving an exasperated sigh, Dimmock tapped his finger against his arm impatiently.

“It’s highly unlikely that he would shoot himself on the right side of his head. The conclusion? Someone broke in, and murdered him. That, is the only explanation of all of the facts.”

“But….the gun…why…?”

“He was waiting for the killer. Been threatened.” Sherlock explained, retrieving his coat and gloves.

“Wait, what?” Dimmock asked, baffled.

“Today at the bank, Vancoon got some sort of a warning.”

“And he shot when his attacker came in.”

“And the bullet? Where’d that go off to then?” Dimmock challenged Sherlock.

“Easy! Out the open window!”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me! What are the chances of that?!” Dimmock exploded.

“About the chances of you becoming a Detective Inspector, Dimmock. Wait until you get the report. The bullet in his brain wasn’t fired from his own gun. I guarantee it.”

“Wait a minute! If the door was locked from the inside…how did the killer even get in?”

“You are finally asking the right questions. C’mon Jane!” Sneering at him, Sherlock turned on his heel and began strutting out in a way that reminded Jane of a peacock, she looked up at the ceiling before following him. She had been planning to just go look for a job, but then again, this was more interesting by far.

“Dimmock…I think I get why don’t you like people now.” Jane shook her head.

“Welcome to my world.”

“Where virtually everyone you meet is an idiot, and you constantly wonder how on earth they got to the place they are now.”

“Precisely.” Sherlock curtly nodded in agreement.

“So, where we off to now?”

“We are going back to talk to Sebastian.”

“Sebastian? Thought you had enough of that guy for a day.”

“True. I need to ask a few questions however.” Hailing a cab, Sherlock opened the door for Jane first, then slid in.

“Know where he is?”

“The ‘Le Gavroche’ eatery.”

“How do you know?” Jane asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.

“On his desk, scrawled out plans for lunch.”

***

Walking into the restaurant, they heard Sebastian’s signature fake laughter ring, and soon located him.

“It was a threat. That is what the graffiti meant.” Sherlock interrupted their dinner, making the table die down and Sebastian looked up uncomfortably.

“I’m kind of in a meeting right now. Make an appointment with my secretary.” Exchanging looks with Jane, Sherlock glared at him.

“I don’t think this can wait. One of your traders, was killed.”

“What?” Sebastian gasped, paling.

“Vancoon was killed, the police are in his flat right now.” Jane explained.

“Killed?” Sebastian echoed.

“So sorry to interfere with everybody’s appetite. Still prefer me to make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine at Scotland Yard do well for your schedule?” Sherlock said sarcastically while Jane pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.

“Er, excuse me a moment.” Sebastian spoke to the other men and got up, following Sherlock.

“Um, Sherlock. This is the men’s lavatory.” Jane coughed as Sherlock pushed open the door.

“Problem?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well….no.” Shaking her head, she entered as well.

“Sure you want your ‘girlfriend’ in here Sherlock?” Sebastian asked, swinging open the door cockily.

“My colleague is not an issue. Vancoon went to Oxford. He was incredibly intelligent, worked in Asia for a few years…”

“And you also gave Vancoon all of the Hong Kong accounts to look after.” Jane added.

“Lost five mill one morning, made it all back one week later. Vancoon had nerves of steel.” Sebastian said, staring at Jane through the mirror.

“Who would want to kill him?” Jane asked, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

“We all make enemies, don’t we?” Sebastian asked, looking stonily at Sherlock as he spoke, Sherlock returning the hateful gaze.

“Yeah, well, we all don’t end up with bullets shoved up our brains.” Jane retorted.

“Not always.” Sebastian continued looking at Sherlock before glancing down to stare at a text.

“It’s my Chairman. The police have been talking to him. Telling him it was a suicide.”

“Well they’ve got it wrong Sebastian. He’d been murdered. You of all people should know that.” Sherlock snapped.

“Well, I’m afraid they don’t see it like that.”

“ _Seb_.” Sherlock shook his head at him while Jane gaped.

Sherlock never called people by nicknames.

“My boss doesn’t think it was murder either. I hired you to do a job Sherlock, I trust you to do it well.” Sebastian turned to leave when Jane called:

“Now just a minute!”

Pushing off the wall, she stalked up to him.

“Since you’ve known Sherlock since University, you should know that Sherlock is almost never wrong! It wasn’t a suicide, and you know it!” Jane barked, grabbing his arm.

Eyes wide, Sherlock stayed silent. She believed him after all. He was nearly certain she hadn’t, and now she was defending him.

“Oh, he’s been wrong before, and he’s wrong now. It. Was. A. Suicide, and nothing else!” Sebastian tried to throw off her arm, but her grip only tightened.

“Then why did you hire Sherlock? He’s helping you right now, and you don’t even believe him! This murderer most likely has something to do with the case, and you are too blind to even notice!” Throwing off her arm, Sebastian snarled:

“I don’t need a veteran with PSTD telling me how to run my affairs!”

“My-what?” Jane stammered, off guard.

“Sherlock taught me a couple tricks from University. Now, why don’t you be a good little girl and run back to Sherlock? He’s taught you so well.” Sneering at them, Sebastian turned and stalked away.

“Well. Pleasant chap, isn’t he?” Jane sniffed.

“Quite.” Sherlock was still glaring at the door when they heard a toilet flush, and a man awkwardly washed his hands, trying his best not to look at Jane who pursed her lips, trying her best not to look at Sherlock.

She knew if she did, she’d probably bust out laughing. Once he was gone, the two erupted into laughter.

“Gosh Sherlock, this is why I can’t go anywhere with you! Did-did you see his face??” Jane gasped in breath, clutching her sides.

“Indeed.” Sherlock chuckled, pushing open the door for her.

“So what else do you need to do?”

“Find out what these codes are.”

“That’s great, but we should go home. It’s eight, and I don’t think there’s much you can do for now.”

Pulling over a cab, Jane and Sherlock got in.

***

Once they arrived back to Baker Street, Jane went upstairs and flicked on the kettle.

“We have lettuce, milk, and...Jam.” Sighing, she tried to figure out what she could cook.

Settling for a salad, toast, jam, and milk, Jane sat at the table as Sherlock glared at the codes.

“You know…staring at them like that isn’t going to solve it.”

“Then what would you suggest I do?”

“Just take a break, mate.” She stated as if it was obvious, getting up to fix them tea.

“What?”

“Well, whenever I get frustrated with a problem, I usually try and get my mind off of it for a bit. Read a book, watch telly, blog, that sort of thing.” Jane casually said, letting tea seep.

“Earl Grey, or English Breakfast?”

“Earl Grey, please. But doing all that, is all so dull Jane!” Sherlock half whined, poring over the pictures as if the answer would come to him right then.

“Well, talk then.” Jane ordered, setting down his tea.

“About what?” Sherlock snapped, taking a sip.

“The case, dinner, anything. You like talking.”

“Depends on who I am conversing with.” He sniffed.

“Which would be me, or Yorick.”

“Who’s Yorick?” Sherlock looked at her, genuinely confused.

“You know, your skull…? Oh, I named him Yorick. I’m sorry, is he named something else?”

“No. He’s just a skull.”

“Oh…sorry.”

“No, it’s…fine. Yorick is a…somewhat fitting name.”

“You don’t even get the reference do you?” Jane laughed, shaking her head at him.

“What reference?” Giving him a playful smile, Jane shrugged.

“Oh, who knows? Could be my great uncle.” She grinned up at him.

“You are a terrible conversationalist Jane.”

“As if you’re any better. And you aren’t thinking of the case.”

Blinking, Sherlock realized she was correct.

“Yes, well, I was, I just-"

“What’s that, under your chair?”

“Oh, nothing of interest.” Sherlock said a little too quickly, cursing himself for not taking the time to hide the saber.

“Let me see.” Moving his feet, Jane pulled out the saber.

“What the heck is this doing here?” Jane arched an eyebrow.

“No idea.” Frowning mistrustfully at Sherlock, Jane shook her head.

“Goodnight Sherlock.” Getting up, Jane trotted upstairs to her room.

Sitting down on his chair, Sherlock frowned. How did she do that? How was she able to take his mind off of work, and at the same time, make him work better? She made him want to take company with her. For the first time in many, many years, he wanted a companion. He wanted her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I have another story posted that contain shorts on the duo. I don't think these main stories cover aspects of Jane and Sherlock's well enough, and I have a lot more liberty with the shorts.   
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed!


	3. Books and Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucky cats, Magistrates court, and Sherlock's new "rival"

Early the next morning, Jane was on the phone with someone.

“Yeah, I’d love to pop in for a minute. No, I’m not busy. I’ll be right there. Thanks, bye.” Hanging up, Jane looked over at Sherlock who seemed to be lost in thought.

“I’ve got a job interview at a surgery not too far from the flat.” 

“Hm.” 

Closing his eyes, Jane was pretty sure he didn’t hear, care, or possibly both.

***

At the surgery, Jane was greeted by a woman with brown hair, and a kind face.

“You must be Doctor Jane Watson. I’m Doctor Sarah Sawyer.”

“Yeah, hi. It’s so nice to meet you, thanks for having me.” Jane smiled back, firmly shaking her hand.

“Well, I just got a client, so it looks like I won’t be able to do the interview. My head nurse can though. Sanford!” 

Head popping out of an office, a man with short brown hair and dark eyes gave a friendly wave.

“Right in here Doctor Watson!” 

Taking a seat, Jane politely shook his hand.

“Jane, please.” 

“The name is Sanford Lewis, but please call me Sanford, You have your resume?”

“Yeah.” 

Handing it to him, Jane waited anxiously as he began reading it over.

“Um…you’re…” 

“What?”

“A bit over qualified.” 

Jane frowned in disappointment. She had tried about ten different clinics, and she was never accepted due to her PSTD, her veteran status, the fact she had only done six months of actual deskwork before, and other various reasons. 

“Will that be a…issue?” Jane bit her lip hopefully. 

“No of course not! It’ll just be a bit…boring for you.” 

“I could use some boring in my life.” Jane laughed softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

It used to be her want for adventure, but now just a dab of mundane here and there would be good. 

“Why do you want such an ordinary clinic?” Sanford asked, folding his hands together.

“Well…I could do with some money.”

“Fair enough. We’ve got two on holiday, and another on maternity leave so for now, it’ll be a bit busy.”

“I don’t mind.” 

Reading something else, Sanford looked up at her seriously.

“It says here…that you were a soldier.” 

“And a doctor.” Jane added, smiling. 

“…you were also a Prisoner of War?” Sanford sadly said.

“Yeah. I hope that is not a problem.”

“No, no not at all! Means you can operate under stress right?”

 _She didn’t know what to do. How could she? Obey, or leave and forever hold the pain and guilt? The shot rang out, silencing her indecision, and spurred her shaking feet and mind into a muddling, painful swirl._

Shaking her head to clear the flashback, Jane gave an uneasy smile.

“Of course.” She whispered weakly, clenching and unclenching her hands under the table.

“Anything else?”

"I could kind of play the clarinet in school?” Jane suggested, making Sanford laugh.

“Looking forward to it! I’ll call you the second I have news for you Jane! Pleasure meeting you.”

Shaking her hand with his warm one, he slowly released her hand. 

“Right, bye then!”

*** 

Sherlock stared carefully at the photos of the graffiti above the fireplace. Taping them to the mirror, he examined the yellow paint. Hearing Jane enter the living room, and the sound of her jacket being slung across her armchair, he repeated his question.

“I said, could you pass me a pen?”

“When did you ask me that?” Jane asked in an amused tone.

“An hour ago.”

“Didn’t notice I had left, did you?” Jane sighed, clicking on the kettle. 

Without looking at him, Jane tossed over the pen, Sherlock caught it, his blue eyes not once leaving the photographs.

“Had a job interview at the surgery seven blocks down.” Jane walked over to him, looking at the photos.

“How was it?” Sherlock asked, scrawling a note by a picture. 

“It was great. He was great.”

“He?” Sherlock scowled, turning around to face her.

“It. I meant it.” She responded quickly. 

After looking at her with an air of suspicion, Sherlock went to her laptop. 

“Have a look Jane.” 

“Huh?” She looked over Sherlock’s shoulder, reading the article. 

_An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl’s Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no apparent signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in..._

“The intruder who can walk through walls…” Jane read aloud, and thought about it.

“Happened at night, doors bolted from the inside, exactly the same as Vancoon…” Sherlock hinted. 

“You think this is linked?” 

“Makes sense, don’t you think?” Sherlock threw on his coat and gloves. 

“It does…” 

“The murderer is probably the same. Let’s go to NSY!” 

Running down the stairs, Jane followed quickly.

***

At Scotland Yard, Dimmock looked completely exasperated as Sherlock typed into the computer, pulling up the same article he had presented to Jane.

“Brian Lukis, a freelance journalist, murdered in his flat, the doors locked from the inside!” Sherlock paced as he spoke.

“You have to admit it Dimmock, it’s similar! Both men, killed by someone who can ‘walk through solid walls’!” Jane added. 

Looking away from their eyes, the pair could see the inspector struggling to hold to his own theory.

“You have seen the ballistics report I suppose?” Sherlock interrogated him.

“Yeah.” 

“And the shot that killed him, was it fired from his own gun?” Sherlock continued.

“…No.” 

“No. So this investigation might move _quicker_ if you were to take my words seriously for once.” Sherlock reprimanded him, leaning over the desk and spoke quietly. 

“I have just _handed_ you a murder enquiry. Use it. I need five minutes in Lukis’ flat.” Sherlock announced, standing up.

*** 

Forty minutes later, they were at the Lukis’ flat. Going over the police tape, Sherlock hurried up the stairs, Jane and Dimmock following. Hurrying into the sitting room, Sherlock found a black origami flower, just like Vancoon’s flower. 

“So, this guy catches up on reading a bit.” Jane commented sardonically, looking around them. 

Books were strewn everywhere, from newspapers, to magazines, and bookshelves. Going into the kitchen, Sherlock peered out the window and smirked. 

“Four floors up. It’s why they assume that they are safe. Turn a key in a lock, think they are impregnable. But that is where they are wrong.” Sherlock mused, striding into the middle of the room.

“They don’t think for a second that there’s another way in.” 

Looking up at the skylight, Sherlock stepped up on a box and unhooked the latch. 

“You are looking for a killer who can climb.” 

“I don’t understand….” Dimmock frowned in confusion.

“That’s how he got in.” Jane said softly.

“What?? Up four floors, no fire escape? He just, scaled up the wall like Spiderman?!”

“Yes! He climbed up the side of the walls, he ran along the roof and then dropped through the skylight.” Sherlock explained. 

“And that explains the bank, and Vancoon!” Jane surmised.

“That is exactly it. Scaled six floors for Vancoon.” 

“That is ridiculous!” Dimmock laughed in complete disbelief. 

“Jane, we need to find out what connected these two men.” Sherlock murmured, staring at the books on the staircase.

Picking up one, he found the cover had a library stamp on it. Looking at a stamp, Sherlock realized this book was taken out the day Vancoon died. 

“I’m done searching here.” He told Dimmock, rushing down the stairs, book in hand. 

*** 

Once they reached the library, Jane and Sherlock ran up the escalator and looked around at the huge library. 

“So, what exactly are we looking for here Sherlock?” She questioned, unsure of where to start. 

“Somewhere, anywhere!”

Looking down at Sherlock’s book, she grabbed it from him and looked at the code on the side binding.

“We go this way.”

Jane took his hand and steered him to a new direction. When he gave her a curious glance, she shook her head. 

“Honestly Sherlock, I’m a doctor. I understand how filing works.” 

Going into an aisle, Jane and Sherlock read the code. As Sherlock started on one aisle, Jane pulled out some book and gave a start. 

“Sherlock, look!” 

Joining her, he noticed the yellow graffiti. Taking photos of it, Sherlock grinned.

“The killer goes to the bank, he leaves a threatening cipher for Vancoon, Vancoon panics, returns to his flat, and locks himself in, hours later, he died.”

“And then the killer found Lukis at the library, he wrote the cipher on the shelf where he knew Lukis would see it, and then Lukis goes home.” Jane continued, as they walked out of the library.

“Late that night, he dies to.” Sherlock looked up at the afternoon sky, thinking.

“Why did they die Sherlock?” Jane quietly murmured.

Pulling out his phone, he stared at the photo of the recent graffiti. 

“Only the cipher could tell us right now.” 

“How come?” Jane put her hands in her pockets, keeping up with him.

“Because the world is run on codes and ciphers, Jane. From the million pound security system at the bank, the PIN machine that you fought with, cryptography lives in our life.”

“But there’s an issue, isn’t there?” Jane picked up on what Sherlock was getting at.

“The issue is, is that it’s all computer-generated. All of them electronic methods. Modern code-breaking methods aren’t going to work on this code.”

“So where are we headed then? Back to Baker Street?”

“No, I need to ask some advice.” 

At this, Jane threw her head back and laughed.

“Really, you?? Honestly, I was pretty sure you already knew everything, the way you act!” Jane snorted. 

Giving her a withering look of disdain, Sherlock crinkled his nose in annoyance. 

“On painting, yes…I need to talk to an expert.” 

*** 

Heading towards the National Art Museum, Jane had assumed he was going to talk to an art curator. What did surprise her was to go to a back alley to find a boy no more than fourteen making graffiti. 

“Isn’t it nice Mr. ‘Olmes? Should get lot o’ approval, I do say so myself.” The boy chuckled.

“How nice, Tim.” Sherlock said impartial.

“Anyway, you said you needed to talk to me ‘bout paint? I’ve got two minutes before a community support officer come’s round. Let’s do this while I’m workin’, yeah?” 

Tossing Jane his can, Tim looked at Sherlock’s photo. 

“Um, let’s see, this is Michigan Yellow paint, I know that. I’m gonna have to ask Raz for more details though, you should’ve gone to him instead.”

“Know the author?” Sherlock questioned.

“Nope.” 

“What about the symbols?”

“No, haven’t seen ‘em before. I done even think this is English sir.” 

“Two men have been murdered, Tim. Deciphering this code of theirs is the only way we can find the killer.”

“That’s seriously all you’ve got to go on Mr. ‘Olmes?? Not too much then!” Tim scoffed. 

“Are you going to help us or not Tim?” Sherlock asked impatiently. 

“I’ll ask around, pretty sure someone must know something-”

“Hey!” They heard a man shout. 

“Crap, he’s ‘ere!” 

Pulling Sherlock, Tim and Sherlock ran away as two officers ran toward the alley.

“Oi, what D’you think _you’re_ doing??” Looking over at the officers, Jane looked down at the spray paint can in her palm. 

“Oh officer, I was just-”

“-Defacing public property are you?”

“No, I was just holding it….for…” 

Sherlock and Tim were long gone by then. Opening the bag by her feet, the police officers found spray cans of all sorts. 

“Well…bit of an enthusiast, are we?” 

She just may kill Sherlock. 

*** 

Three irritating hours later, Jane found herself back at her flat, rage all but barely contained.

“You took your time.” Sherlock finally said, staring at the photos.

“Yeah. Police don’t like to be rushed too much, do they?” Jane smiled furiously, cracking her knuckles.

“Do they?” Sherlock asked absently, half listening.

“They like taking finger print scans, lectures, paper work, gave me an ASBO. And now I have to be in magistrate’s court on Tuesday!” 

“Good, good.”

“Me, Sherlock, in court, on _Tuesday_!!” Jane’s voice reached a shout at the end of her sentence. 

“Ah.” 

“Don’t you get it?? I can barely afford taxi fare, much less a bloody fine! So anytime you want to tell that punk to show up, and own up like a man, I would appreciate that!”

“This symbol…I still can’t place it.” 

Not feeling too much sympathy for Sherlock at the moment, Jane began to shrug off her leather jacket, when Sherlock stood up.

“No, no, no, I have a job for you!”

Pulling her jacket on her, Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf as he took Jane by the shoulders and steered her out with him. 

“ _Hey!_ I was going to get some-” 

“-I need you to go to Scotland Yard, find out what you can about the journalist, get hold of something that could give us clues about what he was up to.”

“And where will you be?” Jane asked, jerking out of his grasp.

“I am going to see Vancoon’s personal assistant. Find out what I can.”

Walking away, Sherlock checked his phone, ignoring Jane when he heard:

“Where are we supposed to meet up anyway??” 

*** 

After paying a short visit to Vancoon’s previous office, Sherlock immediately got to work. His visit at the office had shown him varying clues. One, Amanda, the personal assistant, had an intimate relationship with Vancoon, two, his suspicions on Vancoon being a smuggler had practically been confirmed due to the package he dropped off near this smuggler’s den in China town, and three, he knew where he last was hours before his death. Leaving the office, Sherlock began to make his way to the espresso bar Vancoon had last eaten at. Reaching the espresso bar, Sherlock spun around as he talked aloud, soaking in the scenery. 

“So, you purchased lunch from here, but where did you come from? Where did the taxi drop-”

Bumping into someone, he heard a grunt and the sound of a book falling. Kneeling down to get the book, he found himself staring at Jane. 

“Oh, I am so sorr-Sherlock! What’re you doing here??”

“Eddie Vancoon brought a package here the day he died. I’ve managed to piece together a picture using bits of information here and there…”

“Sherlock…”

“…Credit card bills, receipts, he flew back from China, then he came here!”

“Earth to Sherlock.”

“…Somewhere in this street, somewhere near! Don’t know where Jane, but-”

“It’s that shop over there.” Jane nodded her head towards a shop. 

“What, how do you know that??” Sherlock twitched his mouth.

“Well, Lukis wrote this address down in his book, the day of death. Don’t you find it funny that they’d both be in this area the day they died?” 

Oh. He knew he kept her around for a reason. Entering a shop called “ _The Lucky Cat_ ”, Jane and Sherlock began to rifle through the items. 

“Lucky cat? Your wife, she will like.”

Looking over at Jane, Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

“No.” 

“Fifteen pound! Fifteen pound!” The woman insisted, shaking the plastic, cheap looking cat. 

“She’s not my wife.” Sherlock dismissed, looking through the merchandise, trying to find something, anything. 

Looking at the bottom of one of the Lucky Cats, Sherlock’s eyes widened. 

“Jane, look.” 

Taking the cat, she found a label that looked exactly like the cipher.

“On second thought, we’ll take the cat.” Sherlock said, fishing out a wadded bill. 

Leaving the store, he observed the cat and grinned. 

“It’s an ancient writing system! Hangzhou! Nowadays only street traders use this number system!” 

“But we saw them at the bank and the library, so…” 

Picking up a bok choy, Sherlock showed her another symbol, which showed the English price, as well as the Hangzhou.

“See?” 

“Yes, I do see. So, the people who’ve been doing this. You think they originate from China?”

“Possible.” 

“But…the lucky cat? Really, you bought it?” Jane sniggered, putting a hand over her mouth.

“It could prove useful.”

“And if it doesn’t? What then, detective?”

“Souvenir. Look at the symbol though, it’s the number fifteen.”

“Which is like the number we saw! So there’s one number, which is fifteen! We’re finally getting somewhere with this!” Jane cheered, a grin on her face.

After looking through the produce, Jane found the next symbol. 

“Sherlock look! One! The Chinese number one!” 

“We’ve found it!” Sherlock rejoiced, before turning to walk to a Chinese diner.

On their way there however, Jane was certain she saw a woman. A woman with a black coat and sunglasses, with her phone trained on the pair. Once a car passed, the woman was gone. Frowning at the spot where she had been, Jane entered the diner. Sitting across the tourist shop they’d recently entered, they sat by the window, Jane watching for anyone suspicious, while Sherlock scrawled out the Hangzhou numbers they had seen.

“Alright, so, two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat store. What do you think they saw?”

“Not what they saw Jane, what they brought.” Sherlock was saying as a waitress set food down for Jane. 

“Thank you.” She said politely, grabbing a plastic fork.

“Think about what Sebastian told us about Vancoon. He stayed afloat in the market…” 

“…Lost five million, and made it back in a week.” Jane continued his thought.

“That’s how he made such easy money, because…”

“He was a smuggler. And a guy like him, it would be the perfect job!” Jane said, her mouth full with Kung Pao chicken.

“A business man, making frequent trips to Asia. And the same with Lukis to, you notice that?” Sherlock stared at the numbers on the napkin. 

“A journalist writing about China. And both of them smuggled stuff out assumedly, and had a drop off, which was the Lucky Cat.”

“But Sherlock, some of that doesn’t add up. If they both turned up at the Lucky Cat, and brought the stuff they were supposed to, why would someone threaten and kill them after they finished the job?” 

“Perhaps one of them was…light fingered.” Sherlock responded thoughtfully after a few seconds of thought.

“I don’t follow.” 

“Maybe one of them got greedy, and took something they shouldn’t have for themselves. And the killer, not knowing which one did, killed them both.” 

“Or they both took something, which could be something.” Jane noted, biting into an egg roll. 

Looking outside, Sherlock slightly stood up.

“Jane, remind me…when was the last time it rained?”

“Monday, why?” Getting up, Sherlock left the diner. 

Sighing, Jane looked sorrowfully at her barely touched meal before jamming two fortune cookies in her pocket and followed after him. She really needed to start eating faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys all liked it!! To be honest, it is a tad difficult to get through this story. The Blind Banker is a little slow, so it's hard to muck through this part of it. I did add a new OC though, Tim! He'll be a lot more involved as the series progresses. See you all next week!


	4. Let Me In

“No one’s been here for three days Jane!” Sherlock informed her, ringing the buzzer several times.

“She could be on a holiday. Ever think of that?”

“Yes, but do _you_ leave your windows open when you are gone?”

Running to the alley, Sherlock found the escape ladder to her flat, and jumped up, catching the ladder.

“Oi! You going to let me come along this time?” Jane asked, picking up the Lucky Cat for him.

“You’re too short to reach the ladder Jane. I will let you in from the door.”

“Thanks.” Jane petulantly grumbled, going back.

Entering through the window, Sherlock felt the brush of something ceramic, a trip on the carpet and a vase of now wilted flowers fall to the floor. Quickly catching it, he felt water slosh and looked at an older water stain. Someone had been here previous to him already. Opening a washing machine, Sherlock pulled out a sweater and smelled it, almost gagging from the scent of mildew.

“Sherlock! You said that you would let me in this time! Now are you going to, or not??” He heard Jane yell as he smelled the clearly sour milk.

“I’m not the first Jane!”

“What?” She asked, not able to understand him through the door.

“I am not the first!! Someone’s been in here before me!!”

“I can’t hear you! I could, if you’d, oh I dunno, let me in!” Jane yelled through the letter box angrily.

Examining the carpet where he had tripped, he looked at the smaller feet.

“Size eight…” He murmured, snapping the magnifying glass open, when he saw a picture of two children. Noticing a fresh handprint, pressed against the face of the little girl beside the young boy, he observed the handprint.

“Small, strong hand…an acrobat.”

Why didn’t he close the window though?

“Oh….how _stupid_. Obvious even. He’s _still_ here.” Sherlock said aloud, looking around the flat.

Looking over, Sherlock saw a divider, where the woman who lived here obviously changed. Slowly approaching the divider, he flung it open, only to find nothing. And that is when it happened. His scarf was wrapped even tighter about his neck, expertly tied into a knot. A whirl of black, and different colours swirled, as he gripped the scarf around this throat, the deadly fabric sinking closer to his windpipe.

“Why do I even waste my time here? I may just leave you two it, since you are so insistent to be by yourself!” Hearing the letter box slam, Sherlock knew Jane would probably leave him now.

“Jane-!” He choked feebly, pulling on the scarf desperately, trying to breathe.

His breaths felt like acid in his throat, his lungs feeling as if they would shrivel up. When his vision faded to black, that was when the hands released him. Something was pressed into his gloved hand and the person was gone. Tugging the scarf off, Sherlock coughed and gagged, lying on the floor so he could breathe properly. Opening his palm, he found a paper black locus flower. He knew what this was for now. It was for victims. And his flower, was merely a warning. Stumbling down the stairs, Sherlock found a note amongst the mail.

_Soo Lin Yao,_

_Please call me._

_Please let me know that you are okay._

_Andy_

Looking at the paper it was scrawled on, Sherlock noticed it read _National Antiquities Museum_.

“Sherlock! About time!”

Turns out she did wait for him.

“The-the milk has gone off, the washer clothes, mildewed. Someone left here in a hurry.” His voice high, hoarse, and wheezy, Sherlock tried his best to speak.

“Somebody, do we know who?”

“Soo Lin Yao, we best hurry.”

“Hold on Sherlock. Your voice sounds off. Everything okay?”

“Yes-um…quite so.” Her eyes narrowing, Jane arched an eyebrow.

“You sure nothing happened?”

“Yes.” He coughed.

“C’mere for a sec.”

Grabbing his arm, Jane half led, half dragged him into the alley he’d been in earlier.

“What is your problem with me Sherlock?” Jane snapped.

“I'm sorry..?”

“You think I’m stupid?!”

“No-I-”

“-You don’t think I recognize signs of asphyxiation? Huh? You have slightly blue lips, you’re still trying to breathe properly! You were almost killed up there!” Jane was yelling by now, her nose flaring.

“Of course I know you know that!”

“Then why’d you lie to me?? Someone was up there with you in that flat, weren’t they??”

Eyes lowering somewhat out of compunction, Sherlock gave his answer. Taking off his scarf, Jane looked at the black bruises around his swollen, red, neck.

“Oh Sherlock…why didn’t you let me in? This could’ve been prevented!” Jane sighed, gently massaging his neck.

“I’m fine Jane.”

Batting her hand away, Sherlock took back his scarf from her.

“I know…I know you aren’t used to working with a partner. It’s been several months since I had one, and you’ve probably never had one. So I do realize that this cooperation is difficult, but you have to let me in sometimes! And I’m not talking about a door, I am talking about you. You’ve got to trust me Sherlock.”

Pretending to be disinterested, Sherlock looked away, but soaked in every word.

“Yes, yes. We need to go to the museum of antiquities.”

“What, why?” Jane asked, taking the note from Sherlock.

“Who’s Andy?”

“That’s what we’re about to find out.” Sherlock replied croakily.

Once they were in the cab, Jane continued casting concern glances at him.

“The murderer. He was the one in there with you, wasn’t he?”

“Mmn.” He grunted as means of an answer, his fist clutching something.

“What’s that?” Jane asked, gently prying it from his hands.

“So it was him. Sherlock, you know what this means don’t you?” Jane fingered the black locus.

“A death threat, obviously.”

“Whoever tried to kill you is going to try again. No, he didn’t try. It was a warning, and you need to be more careful next time.” Jane chastised him sternly.

“I know.” Sherlock replied curtly.

***

At the museum, Sherlock and Jane walked to the front desk.

“We are looking for a man named Andy. Does anyone by that name work here?”

Pointing to a skinny man with brown curly hair and freckles, Jane and Sherlock approached him.

“Excuse me, Andy is it?”

“Uh, yes…may I help you?” Andy asked warily.

“Do you know the whereabouts of Soo Lin Yao?” Sherlock questioned, hands in pockets.

“Soo Lin! Do you know her?”

“No. But she has been gone, and we’re gonna find her.” Jane said sincerely.

“When was it that you last saw her?” Sherlock asked coolly, his hand behind his back as he observed some pottery.

“Three days ago, here. They told me she resigned this morning! But it doesn’t make any sense, the tea pots were her life!”

“What tea pots? Show me them.” Sherlock whirled around at the mention.

Taking them to a storage basement, Andy pointed to the teapots.

“She used to do demonstrations of a tea ceremony for visitors. After she left, they put the pots here.”

Looking at the three, Sherlock noticed how two were dull, but one, shined. Turning behind them as Jane and Andy talked, Sherlock put his hand on Jane’s shoulder.

“Jane. Look.” Looking behind them, Jane let out an involuntary gasp.

“Sherlock, a Hangzhou!” Taking pictures, Sherlock frowned.

“Come Jane.” Running out, Jane followed.

“We have to find Soo Lin Yao, and soon. She is connected to this.”

“That is, if she’s still alive.” Jane pointed out the possibility.

“Mr. ‘Olmes!!” Turning around, Jane’s expression soon turned to disregard.

“Well, if it isn’t Tim.”

“’Ello, how are you?”

“I’d be better without the ASBO.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry ‘bout that Love. I found something ‘Olmes, c’mon!”

Running off, Jane and Sherlock followed.

“Seriously though, just show up and say the stupid bag was yours.”

“Jane, forget your court date, because you aren’t going.” “

And why not?” She asked, frowning.

“They have cancelled it.”

“Why? Court doesn’t just get ‘cancelled’. What’d you do?”

“Nothing extreme. Just a little inducement.”

“You mean that you bribed the court?”

“Possibly.”

Shaking her head at him, Jane smiled.

“Thanks. Sorry you had to do something like that.”

“Oh I’ve done worse. Now, what is it Tim?”

Walking into a skate park, Jane smelled the distinct scent of marijuana, smoke, and the walls were all covered in heavy graffiti.

“Well, I saw one of the symbols over there-aw! It’s already been covered up by graffiti! Sorry, Mr. ‘Olmes!”

“We know they’ve been here. Thank you Tim, call it a night.”

Putting a few bills in Tim’s hand, Sherlock and Jane went on.

Once they reached train tracks, Sherlock instructed Jane to go one way.

“I’m looking over here. Find anything, let me know.” Sherlock ordered her, running off.

Looking around, Jane flicked on her torch and started walking. Jane stopped when she found dabs of paint on the tracks. Michigan Yellow. Looking up, Jane’s mouth opened. Right in front of her was a ten foot wall of Hangzhou numbers, in yellow. This was it. Trying to call Sherlock as she went, she got irritated when he didn’t answer.

_Sent 9:17: sherlock answer your phone_

_Sent 9:19: seriously i found something you might want to look at_

_Sent 9:24: where are you_

Finally finding him, Jane ran up.

“Seriously, it wouldn’t kill you to check your phone now and again! I found it! A whole wall of Hangzhou!”

Running with her, Jane led him back to the site. Except she found herself staring at a black wall.

“No, wait! Sherlock, I don’t-there was a whole wall of it! I swear I didn’t imagine it! I-I don’t get it!”

Touching the wall, Sherlock noticed it was still wet, and the distinct smell of paint.

“Someone doesn’t want me to see this.”

Looking at Jane, his gaze sharpened. Putting his hands on both cheeks, he cradled her face.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jane asked, staring into his eyes.

“I need you to concentrate now Jane. Close your eyes.”

Doing as he asked, her eyes fluttered shut.

“What are you trying to do, Holmes?”

“Now do you remember what was on the wall Jane?”

Feeling herself being walked in small circles, she tried to shrug out of his grasp.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Opening her eyes, they met his instantly. In the dark, his eyes were cobalt, and even in his eyes, intelligence and confidence brimmed in them. His eyes were…quite beautiful really. Intensely gazing at her, Sherlock assumed an unyielding stare.

“Jane. Close your eyes.”

When she closed them, Sherlock’s hands drifted to hold her arms.

“Now do you remember? Do you?”

“Yes, I do-”

“Are you sure?? The human memory is only 62% accurate!”

“-And my phone is even more so! Now lay off!”

“Your phone-what?”

“Well you see-”

Hearing a train bell clang, Sherlock looked over at the fast approaching train.

“Jane, back up!” He ordered, pressing himself against the black wall, taking Jane with him. Covering her ears over the clanging train, Jane mouthed _my pocket_.

Reaching into her jacket pocket, Sherlock pulled out her phone and went to photos. There, the photo of the Hangzhou symbols were. Once again, he under estimated her.

“Thank you, Jane.” He said quietly.

“Huh?? I can’t hear the thing over this!” She yelled, scowling at the train.

“I simply said ‘fairly competent’!” He shouted over the roar of the train.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do forgive me, if this seems a bit slow. The Blind Banker is my least favourite, so it is a bit harder to write out though. But thank you all so much for reading this!


	5. Soo Lin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They uncover the truth, and Jane has her first day of work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving (To you Americans :D). Since I finally have time to breathe, I'm posting a bit early this week!!

“They are always in pairs Jane.” Jane looked over his shoulder.  
“Hm?” She hummed tiredly.  
“Pairs. The numbers always come with partners.”  
“Yeah…” Jane rubbed her eyes and yawned.  
“Why would he paint it so near the train tracks?”  
“I dunno.” Jane sighed, curling up in her arm chair and closing her eyes.  
“There are thousands of people who pass there every day.”   
Closing her eyes, and using her union jack pillow as a head rest, she nodded slowly.  
“Of course…they use it to communicate with the underground! It makes sense! Whatever was stolen, they all want it back…but what was stolen?” Tracing a Hangzhou with his finger, Sherlock asked himself.  
“The code could tell us. Each Hangzhou number has a word that goes with it. But what’s the word?” Sherlock wondered. Pulling the pictures of the wall that Jane had took, he put them in his coat pocket and shrugged on his scarf.  
“Only Soo Lin Yao could tell us that. Come along Jane.” Heaving herself up, she pulled on her jacket and faithfully followed after him.   
Getting in the cab with him, she closed her throbbing eyes.   
“So…what are we going to do?” She murmured.   
“We are going to the museum.”  
“Sherlock…its 10:30 are they even open?”  
“They close around 11:00, giving us a chance to find Soo Lin.”  
“Wait…the museum is thirty minutes away, we won’t get a long opportunity to look around.”  
“Who says we’re staying until 11:00?”  
“We’re breaking in?”  
“Yup” Sherlock smirked, popping the p.  
“Oh dear.” Jane sighed, closing her eyes to get some much needed rest.   
The next thing she knew, Sherlock was shaking her awake.  
“Come on Jane.” He whispered, pulling her out of the cab.  
“Yeah...coming.” Following him in, Jane wondered what they were to do next.  
Paying for admission, Sherlock then led Jane about before reaching an employee’s only area. Making sure no one was looking, Sherlock pushed Jane in before entering himself.  
“What are we doing?” Jane whispered.   
Hearing voices, Sherlock pulled Jane into a closet with him.  
“Finding Soo Lin.” Sherlock whispered back.   
“By hiding in a closet? Funny, I-mph!” Clamping a hand over her mouth, Sherlock pressed his finger to his lips as the voices passed them.  
“We can’t be heard, do be-ow!” Biting his hand, Jane glared at him.  
“You could have just said quiet!” Jane hissed.   
“Yes, but that would’ve been too late, they’d have heard us.” Sherlock replied, rubbing the hand she’d bitten.   
When it was silent, Sherlock creaked open the closet and left, Jane not far behind.   
Going into the room Andy had shown them earlier, Jane and Sherlock sat in a dark corner, lights out.  
“Now we wait.” Sherlock breathed in her ear.  
“Right.” Sitting in the darkness, they waited. Finally, after what seemed hours, Jane heard someone. Looking out, she saw a young Asian woman, with a tea pot.   
When Jane started to rise slightly, Sherlock gripped her leg, keeping her in her seat.  
Quietly getting up, Sherlock slowly walked behind her, his slow footsteps silent. When Sherlock was right behind her, Soo Lin noticed, releasing a strangled gasp, dropping the pot.  
“Centuries old, you don’t want to break that.” Sherlock said quietly, catching the teapot.   
Lips trembling, the woman shakily looked up at him.  
“Hello.” Sherlock said, smiling slightly.  
Turning on the lights, Jane walked up to them.   
“Are you Soo Lin Yao?” Biting her lip, Soo Lin nodded, taking the tea pot gently from Sherlock.  
“How did you find me?” She asked softly.  
“The pots. The pots only shine if you care for them daily. You’d been gone for three days, yet you could tell they’d been well looked after.” Jane informed her.   
Nodding, Soo Lin took a seat.  
“Are you here to help? Or are you killing me?”  
“Helping, of course. But we need answers, in order to help.” Jane tenderly pointed out.  
“You have seen the cipher, and you know he’s coming for me.”  
“Well, you have been clever to stay alive this long.”   
“I only live to finish…my work. It’s only a matter of time though. He will find me. He will find me soon.”  
“He? You have met him then.” Sherlock scowled, leaning in slightly.   
“Zhi Zhu.”  
“The spider…” Sherlock murmured, translating the name.  
Taking off her right shoe and sock, Soo Lin showed them a tattoo of a lotus flower in a circle on her heel.   
“Do you know this tattoo?” She asked them.  
“The mark of a Tong.”  
“What? What’s that?” Jane asked, frowning.  
“A crime syndicate that is based in China.” Sherlock explained to Jane.  
“Everyone who hauls for them had it, everyone who was in it bore this.” Soo Lin gravely explained.  
“Haul? Oh…you were a smuggler...”   
“I was only fifteen. My parents were killed, leaving me behind. I had nothing, and my only choice was to work for the ‘bosses’.” Looking sympathetically at Soo Lin, Jane shook her head.  
“I’m so sorry.”  
“They are called ‘The Black Lotus’. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds worth of drugs to Hong Kong. And then, one day, I ran away. Ran here, to England.” Smiling lovingly at the pots, she sighed.  
“Got a job at the museum, bought myself a flat. It was all well. And then, Zhi Zhu found me.”  
“Who is Zhi Zhu?” Jane questioned.  
“My brother. After five years, he has found me at last. He came to my flat, angry. Angry at me for leaving. Said I betrayed him. Told me to return with him.” Wiping her falling tears, Soo Lin bravely inhaled slowly.  
“But I said no. I said ‘I would never return, you’d have to kill me’. Came to work, and the cipher…was on that statue. Zhi Zhu has now become their puppet, in the power of the man they call…General Shan…the crime boss of the black lotus.” Soo Lin bitterly spoke.   
“What does the cipher translate to Soo Lin?” Jane tilted her head in question.  
“Dead man.” Sliding the photos to Soo Lin, Sherlock began to explain.  
“These are numbers.”  
“Yes, I know. It isn’t the numbers though. Each number here, represents a word, you see. In the black lotus, we all use a certain book to translate the message-” Suddenly, the lights snapped out.   
“It’s-it’s Zhi Zhu, he’s found me, he’s found me.” Looking around in terror, Soo Lin’s hands shook violently. 

“Jane, stay with her!” Sherlock ordered, running out.  
“Come, quickly-get in!” Getting into a supply cupboard, Soo Lin followed. Pulling items in front of them, Jane made sure Soo Lin was as far as possible.  
Hearing gunshots, Jane cringed. Sherlock did not bring a gun. Was he alright? Was he dead? Was everything okay?  
“You…you need to go to him.”  
“No! Absolutely no, I need to stay with you!” Jane stubbornly shook her head.  
“Please. You have something that I do not. You can’t lose it. Can’t lose him.” Clearly torn, Jane looked back to the sounds of gunshots.  
“He…I…we’re only colleagues…I need to protect you.”   
“Don’t get out for anything! I’m coming back soon! I promise!” Crawling out, Jane rushed to find Sherlock.   
“Sherlock?” She hissed, searching for him.  
“Sherlock??” There were no more gunshots, did that mean he was dead, or the assassin captured?  
Hearing a gunshot, Jane’s stomach churned. Not the place she left 30 seconds ago, the silence was shattered by the shot.  
“No…no, please God, no!” Running back, Jane let out a strangled cry. Soo Lin, covered in blood, lay dead.  
Falling to her knees, Jane desperately searched for a pulse.  
“Soo Lin, Soo Lin, stay with me! Stay with me!! C’mon, c’mon, breathe! Breathe!” Putting a hand on Jane’s shoulder, Sherlock brushed a stray hair out of her eyes.   
“She’s gone.” Punching the ground in frustration, Jane glowered at the floor.  
“It’s all my fault.” She whispered angrily.  
Looking at the body, Sherlock let Jane have a moment to herself.  
“If I never left, if I trusted you enough to care for yourself, the poor girl wouldn’t have gotten shot.”   
“She knew.” Sherlock murmured quietly.  
“What…?”  
“She knew he would kill her. She knew if you stayed, you’d have died.”  
“You don’t think I’m strong enough to fight a gunmen off?? I shall have you know I’m not some damsel in distress, who’s knocked off easily!”   
“Jane, he was an assassin! You would have died if you’d stayed!” Sherlock raised his voice at her.  
“There had to have been something, anything that I could have done to save her! If I had just stayed!” Jane’s voice grew to a shout as she clenched her fist in anguish and frustration.  
Staying silent, Sherlock let Jane take out her anger.  
“Why? Why didn’t I just stay?” Swallowing against the burn in her throat, she reached her hand up to Soo Lin’s face and gently closed her eyes.   
“It is no one’s fault but Zhi Zhu’s. We will find him.” Sherlock reassured her as the sounds of sirens grew closer.  
“Right.” Once the police swarmed in, Sherlock and Jane were questioned, and the body was whisked away.  
“Why isn’t Dimmock here?” Jane asked one of the officers.  
“He didn’t deem it important enough to come.”  
“But this is relevant to Vancoon and Lucas!”  
“Sorry miss, but Scotland Yard isn’t seeing the connection.”  
“Believe me, by the time I’m done, you will.” Jane uttered darkly, before turning on her heel and stalking away.  
“You coming?” She barked over her shoulder at Sherlock.  
In the cab, Jane’s chest heaved up and down as she furiously brooded out the window.  
Leaving her alone, Sherlock stayed silent until they arrived at NSY.  
Getting out without him, Jane stalked in.  
“Oi! Dimmock! You in here?!” She looked sharply around, and spotted him.  
“What is your problem?” Jane snapped at him furiously, stalking over to him, Sherlock not far behind.  
“What do you want now?” Dimmock asked, irritated.  
“A girl was gunned down tonight! Surely you heard about the incident at the museum, but you didn’t come because you didn’t think it was relevant to the case!”  
“How is it then, doctor?? Do explain!”   
“She said so herself! The Black Lotus gang is here in London, her brother is in it, and is most likely responsible for the deaths of Vancoon and Lukis! You’re supposed to be finding him, not sitting on your arse eating donuts!” Jane’s voice escalated to a shout towards the end of her rant, making people glance their way.   
“Then why…don’t…you….prove it?” Dimmock scathingly sneered.   
“Prove what exactly?”  
“All of it! Prove that the Black Locus gang is in London, and how Vancoon, Lukis, and the girl’s death is connected to all of this!”  
“You are, possibly the worst-!”  
“-We shall prove it, if you’d come with us.” Sherlock said coolly, interrupting Jane.  
“We will?”  
***

Going to Bart’s Hospital, Sherlock found Molly in the cafeteria.  
“What are you going to do?” Jane asked suspiciously.  
“My job.” Smirking, Sherlock brushed past Jane.  
Really, he was a cad. It was obvious Molly Hooper truly liked him, and he used those feelings for his advantage. Prick. Watching Sherlock point at Molly’s hair, and her releasing a startled laugh, she shook her head. Poor Molly Hooper.  
As Sherlock walked past Jane, she whispered:   
“You Lady-killer.”   
“Sorry?”  
“No, Casanova suits you better.” Jane said decisively.   
“It comes with the job Jane, you of all people should know that.”  
“No, I of all people, don’t know that. You really have to flirt with her? It’s quite plain that the woman has feelings for you.” Jane argued.   
“Then she is an idiot.”  
“What, for liking you?”  
“Obviously.”  
“I don’t really think so.”  
“Why?” Sherlock asked her curiously.  
“She doesn’t really see a ‘sociopath’. She sees a genius, a man who has a lot of ambition and dreams, and is just all around brilliant.”   
“Really?” Sherlock questioned curiously, looking at Jane.  
“Yeah. Alright, let’s see what this proof is, shall we?”   
Going into the morgue, Molly began to unzip the body bags starting at the head.  
“Molly, we only need to see the feet.” Sherlock explained, making her arch an eyebrow.  
“The feet?” Doubtful, but compliant, Molly slowly went towards the feet and first unzipped Vancoon’s bag.  
On his heel, lay a black lotus tattoo, the same in fact, that Soo Lin had.  
“And now Lucas.” Sherlock smiled complacently as Molly unzipped Lucas’ bag.   
Jane couldn’t help a smug smile of satisfaction as Dimmock looked at the other tattoo as well.  
“Still say there’s no connection? Soo Lin also had the same tattoo. They were all smugglers.” Jane said, breaking the shocked silence.   
“Or they could all have coincidentally wandered in to the same tattoo parlour.” Sherlock obnoxiously added.   
“Alright, what do you two want?” Dimmock asked dejectedly.  
“Just Vancoon and Lukis’ books.” Sherlock answered.  
“The books?”  
“Yep. In my flat, shortly.” Leaving, Jane followed him.  
Exhausted, Jane slumped in the cab. For the past forty-eight hours, they’d been all over London. Really, it was exhausting, and Jane didn’t know where Sherlock got the stamina.  
By the time they reached the flat, the books had arrived. Crate after crate piled on the other, each one labelled ‘Vancoon’ or ‘Lukis’   
“So…this shouldn’t take too long.” Jane wryly remarked. Picking up a book, Sherlock put it on the table where Jane took her seat, and looked questioningly at him.   
“What’s the plan?”  
“Soo Lin had mentioned that every smuggler has this certain book. They use it as a code to translate things.” Sherlock explained, handing Jane a stack of books.   
“What we need to do then, is find a book that both Vancoon and Lukis had?” Jane looked disdainfully at all of the books as she spoke.   
“Precisely. The numbers are ‘15’ and ‘1’. So, turn to page fifteen of the books, and record the first word you see.” Sherlock instructed, passing her books and taking out a sheet of a paper and pen to begin recording his findings.   
“Right…” Opening up her laptop, Jane typed in the books title, and the first words she found.  
***  
By the time she was on book number two hundred and six, Jane realized she’d been doing this for several hours.  
“Whew…almost done?” Jane asked hopefully as she stretched, cringing at the pop in her spine.  
“Nonsense Jane. We’ve only done six crates, we have thirteen more to go through.” Not sure if she was going to start laughing like a lunatic, collapse from exhaustion, or just put her head down and cry, Jane swallowed hard.  
“Great.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus their vision.  
Shrugging off her cardigan, she continued to work on her task, as Sherlock feverishly went through the books as well, frustrated that they couldn’t find a similar book.  
Jane honestly didn’t remember much about that night due to how tired she was. She remembered that Sherlock woke her up twice when she had accidentally dozed off, and that she was pretty sure she made tea. At one point, they thought they had found a similar book, but it turned out one was the ninth edition whilst hers was the first.  
Hearing her alarm go off, she laughed mirthlessly. Ironic how it was supposed to remind her to wake up, when she hadn’t even slept in who knows when?   
“Hey, I have to shower and go to work.” Jane murmured, pushing herself out of her seat.  
Not hearing her, Sherlock continued through the books, making Jane shake her head.   
Turning on the tap, Jane stripped off her clothes and stepped in, letting the warm water wake her up a bit. Leaning against the wall, she grimaced when she could feel her left eye throb as if it had a pulse, reminding her of how truly shattered she was.  
Turning off the water when it started to run cold, she dressed in the same clothes and put her wet hair into a pony tail. Opening the door, she fetched herself some tea and watched Sherlock go through what seemed the thousandth book.   
“So…I’m leaving then.” Jane cleared her throat as she walked out the door before running into Mrs. Hudson.   
“Before you go dear, here.” Handing her a brown paper sack, Jane opened it to find an egg sandwich.  
“I had a leftover one, and I thought, ‘My new tenant probably is a bit peckish’. So, I thought you might want this Love.”  
“Mrs. Hudson, thank you. I really needed some food.” Jane laughed, giving her a side hug.   
“Oh, I thought you might dear. Are you off to work?”  
“Yep. I’m coming home pretty soon after though.”  
“Well, don’t forget to eat before you get home, or you won’t get a chance!”   
“I’ll take your word. Bye!” Taking a cab, Jane ate on the way there and rushed into the building.  
After a child with strep, and an elderly woman with a bad cough, Jane glanced over at the clock. Her next appointment wouldn’t be there for another ten minutes.  
Just ten minutes…Jane thought, lying her head on her desk.  
When she opened her eyes, she immediately clicked on the intercom so they’d send another in.  
“Mr. Davis, how are you-oh, I apologize, er, Mr. Welch…” She stammered when he huffily handed her his paperwork.  
Mr. Welch? But Mr. Davis was next, and Mr. Welch was supposed to come at four…glancing at the clock, Jane nearly had a heart attack. She’d been asleep for six hours. Why didn’t anyone wake her? Jane was going to get fired for certain.  
“Anything wrong Dr. Watson?” Looking over, Jane shook her head.   
“Apologies sir. Now, it says here, that you have been having problems with…”

***  
At six, Jane was gathering her things, when she heard a knock at the door.  
“Uh, hello. Sleep well?” She heard Sanford ask.   
“Did you cover for me…?” Jane asked hesitantly.   
“Well…you seemed completely run down when you came to work, and I saw you just sleeping, and you were so exhausted…”  
“I-I thank you. I am so, so sorry though, really! Bit not good for your first day huh?”  
“Just a bit. Good thing Sarah didn’t catch on though.”  
“She’s the head doctor, right?”  
“Yep. She’s pretty strict.”  
“Oh, you really didn’t have to do that Sanford! How can I make it up to you??”  
“…How about a date? Unless, you have a boyfriend, then, never mind.”  
“No! I don’t, date sounds lovely. When, and where?”  
After leaving the surgery, Jane got into the cab. There was a stop she needed to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope everyone enjoyed it!


	6. A Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane's date is hijacked.

“Andy?” Jane called, knocking on his flat.

Opening the door, Jane grimaced. His hair a complete disarray, eyes swollen, and obvious he hadn’t shaved, Andy looked like a nightmare. 

“I just wanted to ask if you were alright.” Jane asked softly, holding up the flowers she’d brought with her. 

“Ye-yeah. Sorry you had to see me like this Doctor Watson.” 

“Jane, please. Let me in a moment.” Hesitantly, Andy let her into his chaotic flat.

A few empty beer bottles, a messy kitchen, and tissues on the ground, Jane looked up at him.

“Go get a shower and get a shave. I’m cleaning up for you.” Jane ordered him, picking up his numerous mugs.

Twenty minutes later, Jane had the kitchen sparkling, the living room orderly, and a window to let in some breeze. 

“Thank you for the flowers Dr.,how did you know I liked daisies?”

“You just seemed like that kind of guy is all.” Jane stated calmly, fluffing a pillow for him.

“Are you eating?” She asked. 

“A little…” 

“That’s good to hear.” Jane smiled, sitting down.

“It’s just…I wanted to help Soo Lin so bad…I had no idea she was in so much danger! But I wouldn’t have cared about that! I would’ve wanted to help her, I would have tried!” Andy sniffled, dragging his fingers through his curly hair.

“There wasn’t really much to be done. I am really sorry, but sometimes, you…you just don’t get a chance to help people.” 

“I just…wish there was more I could’ve done.” 

_So do I._

“…I’ll check on you soon. Take a few days off. Sleep in, breathe, and call a friend or family member. When you feel ready, return to work.” Jane told him, walking out. 

Driving back home, she came in to see Sherlock still going over the books, but this time, her laptop showing an article about Chinese artefacts. 

“Hey, find anything?” Jane went up to the article and started reading.

“Convenient that every time there is an anonymous bidding in China, that’s when Vancoon and Lukis were there.” Sherlock said wryly.

“Oh yes. What a coincidence.” Continuing her readings, Jane frowned. 

“Paintings, vases, all of them are antiques. Meaning, Zhi Zhu probably wanted Soo Lin’s help, since she works in a museum and is thus an expert in Asian artefacts.” Jane noted. 

“Very insightful. I believe you are catching on. All of this adds up to that the Black Lotus is selling its way into Britain.” 

“And the reason that Vancoon and Lukis were murdered, is because one of them, if not both, had gotten a bit greedy, and stole something.” Jane continued. 

“That is the reason Zhi Zhu has returned. To steal back whatever was stolen.” Sherlock concluded. 

“Brilliant!” Jane cheered.

“I need fresh air. We’re going out tonight.” Sherlock announced, stretching. 

“Oh, I can’t. Not tonight anyway.” 

At this, Sherlock slowly turned to face her. 

“…And why not?”

“Well, I’ve got a date.” Jane grinned, tipping her chin up.

“What?”

“You know, date. Where two people who like each other get together, get to know each other, and have fun.” 

“That’s…what we were doing together…am I wrong?” 

Frowning with a face that made her think of a kicked puppy, she shook her head.

“Oh, no, of course! But, this is a romantic thing, not friends’ thing.” Jane further explained to him. 

“We are…friends?” 

“Yeah…I believe so. Just, we’re not going to be romantic.”

“I know that. Do you actually like him?”

“He seems nice enough.” 

“How many conversations?” 

“Um…two. But they were both insightful conversations.” 

“Really? Do tell.” 

“First was my job interview. He didn’t have an issue that I used to have PSTD, that I was a POW, and haven’t done much civilian work. Second one, was I fell asleep on accident this morning, and he helped me out.” 

At this, Sherlock laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” Jane demanded, her hands on her hips. 

“Both times, he was obviously trying to win your affection. First time, he excused your problems due to your physically attractive qualities, the second was because whilst he was sympathetic, he wanted you to feel indebted to him, thus you agreeing to go on a date with him.” 

“Well champ, I’m going out with him. Sanford is nice, he’s got a good sense of humour, and I haven’t been out in ages!” Jane defended herself, feeling agitated. 

“Fine, fine. Most likely he’ll try to take you to the cinema. However, I know you hate cinemas, so take this.”

Handing her two tickets, Jane peered at them. 

“The Chinese circus? Why D’you have these?” 

When Sherlock didn’t answer, she felt slightly guilty. He had bought them for her and himself. 

“Why would I go to this? And how would you know if I hate cinemas?”

“You loathe small spaces due to your captivity in Afghanistan. Why would you want to be in an overcrowded, dirty, greasy, darkened theatre?”

Scratching the back of her head uncomfortably, Jane looked away. It was unnerving how he was able to word her discomfort. 

“Thanks but no thanks, Sherlock. I think you are the last person I’d take dating advice from. Now I am getting ready, he’s coming to get me at eight.”

By the time the door rang, Sherlock heard Mrs. Hudson answer, and Sanford went upstairs. 

“So this was the ‘book event’ huh? Oh, you must be her flat mate. I’m Sanford.”

Offering his hand, Sanford lowered it when it was obvious Sherlock wouldn’t take it. Ignoring Sanford, Sherlock heard Jane come downstairs, and he raised an eyebrow. Her hair in a neat bun, wearing a nice plaid shirt and recently laundered jeans, Sherlock slightly rolled his eyes and went back to his work. She was even wearing mascara of all things.

“Sorry, I tried to be on time. Ok, the show is starting at eight-thirty, so we’d better go! Later, Sherlock!” 

“What show Jane? I was going to take you to the cinema…” 

“Yes, this is going to be more interesting Sanford.” 

***

Arriving at the theatre, Jane and Sanford waited at the front. 

“So, what did you reserve the name under?”

“He probably did it for Sherlock Holmes. Try that, or Jane Watson.” 

“Hi! Two tickets for Sherlock Holmes!” 

Sanford searched for the tickets, when Jane handed him her wallet. 

“They’re in there.” 

Digging them out, Sanford handed them in and offered his arm to Jane, putting the wallet in his pocket.

“I feel bad about you being the picker for the date. Isn’t that the man’s responsibility?”

“They’re only here for tonight though. You do not see the Chinese circus all of the time.” 

“No, you don’t, do you?” Jane closed her eyes in quiet frustration when she heard a familiar baritone voice. 

“Sherlock Holmes. What…are you doing here?” Jane asked after counting to ten.

“After you left, I phoned in and got myself a ticket.”

Looking over at Sanford, Jane smiled apologetically. 

“Could you get us both a seat? I’ll be with you soon.” 

Once he left, Jane fixed Sherlock with a death glare. 

“I thought you were going to leave me alone tonight Sherlock. Just one bloody night off, was all I wanted. But no, I should have known something was up when you said _Chinese_ circus. And the fact you actually wanted to get out of the flat period.”

“Exit visas in China are scarce. The smugglers needed an excuse to get out of China discreetly. We’re looking for a killer who climbs. What better suspect than an acrobat Jane?”

“I’m on a date. Not solving crimes right now. You seriously should’ve stayed home.” 

“I’m just going to look around here. You won’t even know I’m even there.” Sherlock promised, wandering off. 

The circus wasn’t quite what Jane pictured. A bunch of hipster looking college students were standing around, and it was dank and grimy looking. And there was only standing room, no chairs. 

“This isn’t quite what I thought when I thought Circus.” Jane muttered under her breath as she stood next to Sanford.

“This isn’t their day job.” Sherlock reminded her as he stood behind them. 

“Oh yeah, they’re just an international smuggling ring, how could I have forgotten?” She hissed back as music began and the lights darkened.

Hearing a drum beat, Jane watched a woman in traditional Chinese robes come on stage, her face heavily painted. Raising an elegant hand in the air, she reached out and pulled a silk blanket off of a crossbow. The arrow itself though, made Jane pay attention. It was thick, and had a strong metal point. Plucking a feather off of her head dress, she showed the audience before placing it in a small cup. Apparently that triggered the crossbow by the indication of it zooming into a target. Jumping a little, Jane laughed, looking at Sanford who gave a nervous chuckle. A man with a traditional mask was then dragged out, his struggle obviously theatrical. Two men then attached heavy looking chains on him and put him against the board. 

“A classic Chinese escapology act…” Sherlock softly noted, making Jane turn around. 

“Hm?” 

“The crossbow, it is wired with delicate string. It is the warrior’s job to escape before the arrow gets him.” Sherlock murmured, as they watched them tighten the chains. 

Hearing a cymbal crash, Sanford grabbed Jane’s hand.

“Sorry, I-I-heh!” Laughing nervously, he clutched Jane’s hand. 

“How did the cymbals not give you a fright?” Sanford asked Jane.

“She’s adapted to loud noises and violence because of the war. You’re a doctor, you should know that due to-”

When Jane gave him a warning glare, Sherlock shut up. Picking up a dagger, the woman showed the audience before slitting a sandbag.

“The closer the metal ball gets to the bowl the feather had landed on, the closer the man’s death becomes.” Sherlock explained to Jane, as she intently watched the sand pour, lowering the ball.

As the ball reached the bowl, the warrior was able to escape at the last second. Laughing, Jane clapped her hands. 

“That was awesome. Think you could predict what’s next Sher…?” Sherlock was gone. 

Frowning, Jane looked around.

“Where’s that idiot gone off to now?” 

Worried, she craned her neck. Seeing Sanford look away awkwardly, she frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, it’s something stupid.” He said, abashed. 

“No, what?” 

“It’s just…I feel like I’m the third wheel to a date, when I’m the one taking you. Not the other way around.”

“I’m…sorry. I just get worried.” Jane explained, biting her lip. 

“I know. But, let’s not worry about him Jane.” Sanford sighed, holding her hand more firmly. 

_Easier said than done._ Jane thought as she watched a masked acrobat fly through the air, only supported by long ropes of silk.

 _I do wonder what Sherlock would have to say about this act…and what about the acrobat. Sherlock said we were looking for one…could it be this acrobat…?_ Catching herself thinking about the case, Jane shook her head. 

_No, stop it Jane. You are on a date with Sanford, a date with Sanford, don’t think about Sherlock right now._ She wasn’t thinking about Sherlock. She wasn’t worried at all. 

Well, she wasn’t worried until she watched him crash through the curtain behind the acrobat…wrestling an assassin. Who now had him on the floor, ready to make Sherlock one heck of a shish kabob with his sleek dagger. And there was no way she’d ever let that happen. Adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Jane ran as fast as she could and rammed into the man full force, shoving him away. Worriedly glancing over at Sherlock, she realized he looked dazed and confused. When he did crash through the curtains though, he had hit his head. 

Ducking, Jane narrowly missed his dagger but did get a foot in her ribs, sending her backwards. Going towards the arrow, Jane ripped it out of the target board, and charged again. The man this time had a large sword, prepared to cut through Sherlock. She didn’t have time to wonder where he’d gotten that before she whammed him in the head with the arrow. 

“Sherlock, you bloody girl, you need to snap out of it!” Jane yelled, turning the arrows sideways and smashing it into the man’s ribs. 

Shunting him to the ground, Jane tried to pull Sherlock to his feet. 

“Wait…his foot..!” 

Pulling off the shoe, Sherlock and Jane found themselves staring at a Black Lotus tattoo. Sherlock was right after all. Remembering her date, Jane brought Sherlock to his feet.

“Sherlock, we need to get Sanford out of here!” 

“Er, of course…” Taking Sanford’s hand, Jane let Sherlock lead the way out.

“Remind me how many times I’ve saved you…this would be about…two.” 

“No, the first time I rescued myself.” 

“You did not you pillock! What if you’d been wrong about the pill?”

“What if I’d been right?” Sherlock challenged her haughtily. 

Getting into the middle seat, Jane immediately turned to Sherlock. 

“So? What happened?” Jane demanded.

“They are involved. I found Michigan Yellow spray paint in the backstage, recently used. There were at least twenty bottles Jane. I still have the bottle here.” 

Sherlock showed her the bottle in his coat pocket as proof.

“So our suspicions are confirmed then! What about the acrobat?” Jane asked curiously.

“He left during the fight. He didn’t want to get involved, and left hastily. Could mean there’s someone he was going to.” 

“You think he was Zhi Zhu?” Jane gasped slightly.

“Highly likely possibility Jane.” 

“Brilliant!” 

“Brilliant.” Sherlock echoed.

“So, where we off to then?”

“Scotland Yard. Need to speak with our favourite Inspector.” 

“Oh, gosh Dimmock? You know, I really do miss Lestrade.” Jane sighed. 

“I’m sorry, but D’you think you could tell me what is going on??” Sanford finally burst out.

“Oh, sorry. Well, a bit of a long story-”

“-A long story you’ll need to tell later. We’re here.” Sherlock announced, hopping out of the cab. 

“I sent a couple of cars to the hall where the ‘circus’ was being held. There was nothing there. Nothing.” Dimmock growled as he stormed into his office.

“Yes, because they weren’t fast enough Inspector. I had seen the tattoo myself.” 

“Either Lukis or Vancoon stole something in China while they were there, and now the gang members will do just about anything to get it back.” 

“Get what back exactly?” Dimmock snarled. 

“We…are not sure. Yet.” Jane hesitantly replied, as Sherlock angrily looked to the side.

“You…aren’t…sure. You know, Lestrade said your advice was worth the listen. By the end of this week, I had better got something to show for that. Now get out.”

Not twenty minutes later was Jane feeling as if they’d gone back to square one.

“They’ll be back in China by tomorrow.” Jane muttered miserably. 

“No they won’t Jane. They aren’t going to leave without what they came for.” 

“So…what are we going to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Andy. I just really wished that the show had gotten more in depth with him, I really liked him a lot. Oh, and nothing quite like seeing Sherlock battle a Chinese warrior XD


	7. The Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock puts together the last pieces of the puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long it took me to update this chapter...finals, Christmas, finals, travels. Anyway, Merry Christmas you guys!!!! Hope everyone had a fantastic Holiday season!

“Simple Jane. We find the hideout. And we can find the hideout by translating this code. It’s that simple.”

“Great! We need to get to work now!”

“In that case, you need me to go then?”

Looking over, Sherlock arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, that would be prudent for you to go-”

“Sherlock! Honestly, stop kidding around. Sanford, if you want to stay, please do. You aren’t intruding, I promise.”

“Actually, he is-oof!”

Elbowing him hard in the ribs, Jane looked over at Sanford apologetically.

“Er, just a minute Sanford.”

Ushering Sherlock into his room, Jane closed the door.

“Ok, why are you acting like this?” Jane demanded, levelling him with a glare.

“I am simply stating, that right now, in the peak of the case, we do not need such irrelevant distractions!”

“He is not a distraction! I told you, this evening, that it was my night off! And what am I doing? I am helping you. You have to understand that I do have a life outside cases, and that includes going on dates with people. ” Jane retorted.

“Well-I-”

“Sherlock, this case is important to me, and so are you. But mate, give me some space every now and again, alright? Now, go back and treat Sanford like an actual human being.”

Muttering something about a ‘half-witted ox’, Sherlock grumpily started going over pictures of the Hangzhou.

“Ok, we all sorted? Good, I’m going to grab us some food.”

While Jane did feel bad for leaving a lamb with a lion, she needed a minute away from those two. Honestly, what was wrong with Sherlock? Was it so wrong for her to bring other men home from time to time? He was not her mother, and most certainly not her boss. Opening the fridge, she looked up at the ceiling when she found her lettuce spoiled, and an empty milk jug in the fridge.

“I swear, how many times now I have told Sherlock not to leave empty crap in the fridge...”

Slamming the fridge shut, she found an olive jar and opened it before shutting it quickly. Instead of the olives she was hoping for, she found a bunch of human eyeballs marinating in some kind of fluid. It would do Sherlock a bit of good to learn about kitchen etiquette.

“Yoo-hoo, Jane! I brought you and your guest a bit of something to eat.” Mrs. Hudson whispered, setting down a tray of tea and chips and dip.

“Mrs. Hudson, I swear you are an angel. Thanks!” Jane laughed, giving her a short hug.

“Jane! Jane!!” She heard Sherlock shout.

“What now? I swear, if you and Sanford are having a go, I’m gonna-”

“Jane, I know where to find the book!!” Sherlock exclaimed, throwing a photo in Jane’s face.

“Wait, what?”

Catching the photo, she recognized it as the brick wall she had taken a picture of. Under the original numbers, someone had written “Nine” and “Mil” under the numbers. But not just somebody, Soo Lin.

“She must’ve begun to translate before…”

She was killed because of her.

“Before she was shot, she had used a book to translate those words! Nine million quid, that must be what it is!”

“Yeah, but what does it mean?” Jane asked, helping Sherlock put on his trench coat.

“That, is what I’m about to find out! Stay here, I will be back!”

After he ran out, Jane and Sanford exchanged a glance.

“Well…that was…a lot of…work.” Sanford wearily exclaimed, taking a seat.

“Yeah…here, I’ll order some Chinese. Sounds fitting for this whole case, right?” Jane laughed, picking up the phone.

After ordering some food, Jane started pulling out trays for them to eat on.

“What’s it like to do cases 24/7?”

“You have to eat, sleep, and shower the moment you get a chance. And there is a lot of riding in cabs, and running. Seriously, you would not believe how much running I’ve been doing.”

“Well, your figure proves it I think.”

Blushing a little, Jane laughed.

“Sorry I’ve gotten carried away with the case. I mean, I love this. The adrenaline, the confusion and excitement, the adventure…and working with Sherlock is wonderful, however infuriating he can be.”

When Sanford looked away uncomfortably, Jane nervously bit her lip.

“Sorry, I suppose talking about Sherlock on a date is a…bit not good, is it?”

“Yeah, just a bit…”

Hearing the doorbell ring, Sanford sat up.

“Must be take-out, I’ll get it.”

“That was fast. Shall I get the silverware?” Jane noted, getting out of her seat.

As she was setting out forks, she heard Sanford cry out.

“Sanford?? Everything okay-?!”

Looking at the stairs, she noticed a man in black.

“What have you done to Sanford?”

Jane curled her fist against the fork she was holding. Instead of answering, he rushed forward and grabbed her by the hair, throwing her on the table and tried to get a pressure point on her neck. Stabbing his hand with the fork, she smirked when he gave a cry of pain and grabbed a plate next. Smashing the ceramic plate on his head, Jane broke away and tried to make a break for it. Skidding to a stop when she ran into another man, the last thing she remembered was getting a gun butt in her jaw before her head hit the carpet.

***

“Taxi! Taxi!!” Sherlock shouted, as he ran into a German couple.

“Hey, du! Siehst du nicht wo du hingehst?!” The German growled, accidentally dropping his book.

“Entschuldigen Sie, bitte.” Sherlock apologised, taking the book.

“Ja, danke! Und dann sagen die, dass die Engländer höflich sind!” The man grumbled as Sherlock handed him the book.

Giving an exasperated sigh when the taxi had driven away, Sherlock was about to get another cab before he remembered the German’s book.

“London A-Z…a book…”

Of course. What more sense than this book in order to operate in London?? Soo Lin had it, and he had come across it in Vancoon’s flat…how could he have missed it? He was such an idiot sometimes.

“Wait! Wait! Bitte!!” Sherlock shouted, stopping the couple.

“Nun, was, du Arschloch?” The man snapped.

Taking the book, Sherlock opened London A-Z, flipping through the pages.

“Gib mir doch mein Buch zurück!” Now the woman angrily protested as well.

“Minute! Bitte!” Sherlock pleaded, holding up a finger.

“Vergiss es. Verrückter Mann.”

Leaving, the man sneered at him. Taking out a pen, Sherlock began looking through the book. Not the page numbers, but the first word on each chapter title. In less than five minutes, he cracked the code. NINE MILL FOR JADE PIN DRAGON DEN BLACK…TRAMWAY. Storing this information in his mind palace, Sherlock put the picture back in his pocket. He couldn’t wait to tell Jane.

“Oi! Mr. ‘Olmes!!” Looking up, he noticed Tim running up to him.

“Tim. Have you any information?” Looking away, Tim gulped and nodded.

“It’s not…the best…eh, you might want to go back to Baker Street. Somethin’ awful just happened.”

Breaking into a run, Sherlock threw the door open and ran up the stairs.

“Jane!? Jane, where are you??”

Walking into the kitchen, Sherlock found a bloody fork, a swinging light, blood on the carpet, and even worse…forcing himself to look at the windows, Sherlock found two Hangzhou numbers on them.

“It means…dead man.”

Soo Lin’s words came to him then, making him inhale sharply. He had to save her. He had to.

“Tim, where are they?”

“I dunno, I just got a text from one of the homeless network. Said they saw some ruckus going on. They said they took them to a tunnel, it looked bad so they left.”

“Make sure Mrs. Hudson stays safe Tim.”  Sherlock ordered, before taking off.

***

Struggling to wake up, Jane let out a groan, her head feeling as if it was stuffed with cotton. Blinking, she tried to clear the black spots in her eyes.

“A book, is like a magic garden stored in your pocket.” She heard a woman recite.

“Ancient Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes.”

Was Sherlock even here?? What was going on?

“Mr. H-Holmes…? D-do you mean Sherlock Holmes? I-I am not Sherlock Holmes!” Jane heard Sanford stutter.

“You will forgive me if I do not believe you.”

Hearing a grunt of pain from Sanford, the woman read aloud something.

“Debit card in the name of Sherlock Holmes…”

Sanford still had her wallet that she’d given him at the circus. A few days ago, Sherlock had lent her his card.

“No…you don’t…understand…” Jane whispered softly.

“A cheque made out to Sherlock Holmes, and two tickets under the name of Sherlock Holmes.”

“I let Sanford borrow my wallet, Sherlock lent me all of that.”

Unexpectedly, a fist made contact with her cheek, making Jane yelp.

“Shut up, and someone gag her!” The woman snapped.

Trying to struggle, Jane’s head was forcibly held still, and a greasy tasting rag went into her mouth.

“I am General Shan.”

So, this was the General that Soo Lin had spoken of…

“I-I don’t know who that is!”

“Three times we’ve tried to kill you…and three times we’ve missed. When an assassin misses, means she is not really trying. Oh, but now we are trying. So, do you have the treasure?”

“The wh-what?”

“The treasure Mr. Holmes!!”

“I-I have no idea what you are talking about!!”

Silence.

“In the West, everything has a price. And the price, is her. I would like a volunteer from the audience! Ooh, yes, thank you for volunteering madam!”

Two men lifting her chair, Jane thrashed and tried to resist.

_She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. The sack over her head was made of thick burlap, and the blood on her breath made the odour awful. She couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, she was trapped, she was trapped-_

No. She wasn’t in Afghanistan, this was London, not Afghanistan. She would absolutely not have a panic attack. Not here. Anywhere but here.

“Jane, Jane, I’m sorry, I am so sorry!!”

Watching the blanket come off the contraption, Jane felt her heart rise to her throat.

“Now, let us preform a classic escapology act! I would make it a surprise, but you already know how this act ends!”

Her stomach felt like lead as she realized what was happening.

_“The crossbow, it is wired with delicate string. It is the warrior’s job to escape before the arrow gets him.”_

That arrow was pointing at her.

“Where is the hairpin?”

She was going to die.

“What?!”

Swinging violently to the side, Jane tried fruitlessly for her chair to fall.

“The Empress hairpin worth nine million! We had a buyer in the West, but one of our men got greedy, and stole it. We know you’ve been tracking it, and we want to know where!”

“Please, you’ve got to believe me! I don’t know what you are talking about!”

Trying to spit out the gag, Jane felt a hand shoving it further down her throat, almost making her puke.

“From the distant moon-lit shores of London, we bring Jane Watson, Sherlock’s pretty companion in a death-defying act…”

When she saw the origami locus being placed in her lap, Jane jerked hard against her rope.

“I am not Sherlock Holmes, please!!!” Sanford sobbed.

“I do not believe you.”

“You should believe him you know. Sherlock Holmes is nothing like him. How would I be described Jane? Daring, charming, enigmatic?”

_Late would be the term I’d use._ Jane thought, irritated, but relieved.

Hearing a gun load, Jane tensed.

“I wouldn’t shoot that gun! The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you.” Jane heard Sherlock yell.

After a long silence, Sherlock pushed their only light source down, submerging them into complete darkness, making Jane flinch.

_It was the only way to escape. She had no choice, no choice. Forced into a box that she wouldn’t have fit if she’d been any bigger, she suffered. Jane was in hot, sweaty, smelly darkness, the heat making her vision blur. Had she been in the box hours, or days? She didn’t know anymore…she just wanted to give up…_ Shaking her head, desperately, Jane continued to remind herself of where she really was.

_Not Afghanistan, not Afghanistan, this is not Afghanistan_   Jane chanted in her head, trying not to turn into a mess.

Hearing the sand pour, Jane knew her doom was coming. Feeling someone behind her, Jane recoiled from the hands at her ropes.

“Jane, it’s me, you’re going to be al-”

Hearing Sherlock choke, and then the sound of someone getting dragged away, Jane cried out, even though she was gagged. She wanted in this fight so bad it hurt.

“Jane! You must trust me, but on my mark, you have to veer your chair to the left! 3…”

She was terrified.

“…2…”

Would this work?

“…1…”

She’d tried that before, she couldn’t do it!

“Now!!”

Swinging to the left, Jane heard the arrow release and the sound of a man grunting. Was that Sherlock? Did the plan not work? Had she failed? Feeling her chair being lifted up, Jane let out a muffled scream and struggled. Was Sherlock dead, was someone trying to come over and kill her as well??

“Shh, it’s me, you’re alright….you’re alright.”

Feeling a gloved hand in her hair, Jane knew it was Sherlock. She was safe.

“…Jane…” Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief, gently easing the gag out.

“Sherlock…” She whispered, her mouth hurting to much to talk loudly.

The second he untied her hands, she threw her arms around him.

“I thought-thought that arrow hit you Sherlock! I-I you almost di-died! What was I supposed to do if you died??” Jane cried, putting her face in his scarf heaving a scared sob.

“I’m fine Jane…you’re okay…I have you.”

Before he even realized he was doing it, he turned his head and kissed her temple. Frowning, Sherlock shook his head slightly. Why on earth did he do that?

“You’re alright. They’re gone. I’m alright.”

Shaking, she silently clung to him, almost afraid to let him go.

“You have to check on Sanford…” Jane muttered, her breaths shaky.

Looking down at her lap, she saw that General Shan had placed an origami locus on her lap. After untying Sanford who was just now waking up, Sherlock went back to Jane and helped her up. Seeing that she was still looking at the flower, Sherlock’s eyes darkened.

“Jane. It’s over now. You realise that, right?” He said, taking the flower and crumpling it.

“Oh…yes. Yeah, I know…”

Hearing police sirens, Jane rubbed her bleeding head and sighed.

“Where’s General Shan?”

“Escaped.”

“And…Zhi Zhu?”

Looking over at the corpse with an arrow in his stomach, Sherlock gave his answer.

“Ah. Well, not a bad day’s work. Or, three days, whatever works.”

***

Slipping out as the police came in, Sherlock ran into Dimmock.

“Police still have questions.”

“And none of it can be answered tonight Inspector. Jane and I will show up to Scotland Yard tomorrow.” Sherlock promised him, putting his arm around Jane.

“Um…pardon me, but I need to speak to Jane for a minute…” Sanford coughed behind them.

“Sure…”

Reluctantly slipping away from Sherlock, Jane walked over to Sanford.

“Look Sanford, I am so sorry about tonight. I really am, and I can try to make it up to you-”

“Don’t. We don’t know each other well, and besides, this was just a test trial to see how we’d do. I think tonight gives a pretty good understanding on how things would be if I stuck around.”

Disappointed, Jane looked at the ground.

“Sorry. If it’s all the same, I’d love to get to know you better as a colleague.”

“It would be lovely to do that, Jane. Besides, beating up Chinese gangsters on a date isn’t something you do on a daily basis.” Sanford laughed.

After making sure he made it into a cab safely, Jane found Sherlock.

“Hey…you ready?”

“Quite. Is Samson coming with us?”

“You mean Sanford?” Jane raised an eyebrow bemusedly.

“Sanford? What a terrible name.”

“Yeah, it’d be easy to confuse it with ‘Sherlock’.” Jane slyly remarked.

“Shut up.” Sherlock smirked, hailing a cab.

***

Once they were home, Jane came upstairs and gasped:

“That-I thought they were taken care of!!”

Apparently she had not seen the paint prior to being kidnapped.

“No, that-that was how I knew you got kidnapped. Or a sign anyhow, Tim was the one who informed me.” Sherlock answered, finding a first aid kit.

“The graffiti kid? How’d he know?”

“I ‘ave my sources.” Tim called from the stairs, coming up.

“Wasn’t sure if Mrs. Hudson would be okay, so I stayed.”

Handing him a bill, Sherlock nodded.

“Passable job.” Sherlock commented, taking out rubbing alcohol from the kit.

“I’ll take that as a compliment…better be off then. Night to you, and your girlfriend.”

Tipping his head, Tim was off.

“…so…you hire him sort of as an errand boy?” Jane looked over to Sherlock as she sat on her chair.

“He is one of my more reliable street sources. I have eyes and ears all over the city.”

“Who?” Jane questioned, cringing at the burn of alcohol as Sherlock dabbed it over her wound.

“Homeless network. None of them are noticed, and most people don’t want to notice them…”

“Ow…you’re dabbing it to hard…” Jane hissed, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“No I am not. Hold still.”

Lowering her eyes, she focused her eyes away from him. Seeing that Jane was staring at the window with the yellow paint, Sherlock got up and drew the curtains.

“It’s late. You should sleep.” Sherlock turned to face her.

“Thank you Sherlock.”

“What for?”

“You stayed with me when you could’ve gone after General Shan. Probably would have been able to catch her if you hadn’t stayed.”

“It was only logical. Suppose there were more Black Locus members in London and showed up. It was only natural to stay.” Sherlock defensively argued.

“Suppose you’re right. All the same though…thank you.”

Extending her hand to take his in her own, Jane had second thoughts and slowly pulled back.

“Night Sherlock. Please try to get some rest.”

Once he heard the door close, Sherlock pulled out a cooking pot and filled it with warm water and soap.

***

“Oh Sherlock, you know I could’ve done that!” He heard Mrs. Hudson chirp behind him.

“Hm. You can’t see it as well.”

Swabbing at a particularly stubborn yellow spot, Sherlock then stepped back and admired the windows. There, nothing would remind Jane of what she had to endure tonight. Satisfied, Sherlock felt his eyes throb and he yawned.

“I’ve never seen you wash windows. Never seen you do any of these domestic things. That is until…”

“Until what?” Sherlock asked, pouring the soupy liquid down the drain.

“…Until that dear girl came here.” Mrs. Hudson softly smiled, looking endearingly at the direction of Jane’s room.

“Goodnight Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said, kissing her cheek.

“Sherlock, what do you think of Jane?” Mrs. Hudson curiously looked up to the direction of Jane’s room.

Thinking thoughtfully for a moment, Sherlock answered:

“She is…a very qualified woman.”

“Oh she is indeed. Gotten a lot more cheerful with her around, hasn’t it?”

“…Quite.”


	8. Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The duo wraps up things, while a new twist in the case is discovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is our last chapter for the Chinese Locus!! I hope you guys liked it, and didn't find it very dull. To be truthful, this is my least favourite installment, so I found it tough to get through. Thank you all for reading, And hope you all liked the Sherlock special as much as I did! :D

Yawning, Jane slowly woke up. Snuggling further into the comforter, Jane was slowly drifting back to sleep when she noticed her room. This didn’t look like early morning light. In fact…checking her wrist watch, Jane’s jaw dropped.

“It’s eleven in the morning?! What?!”

Throwing on a fresh shirt and rumpled jeans, Jane flew down the stairs, ignoring her throbbing headache.

“Sherlock, have you seen my trainers?” Jane yelled from the bathroom, hurriedly brushing her teeth.

“On the stairs. Getting ready for work, are you?”

“No, I’m getting ready to be _fired_! I slept through work my first day, and then I have the nerve not to come in till eleven looking like crap, I’m going to be sacked!” Jane cried, throwing her hair into a loose ponytail as she put on her shoes, forgoing socks. “Jane, calm down.”

“No! I had to be at work three bloody _hours_ ago Sherlock!”

“Jane-”

“And I needed a job so badly. They’re going to dismiss me with no recommendations, I’m through!”

“ _Jane_.”

“What?!” Jane asked, finally looking over at him.

“I already told them what happened. That Samson fellow also testified and is taking the day off as well.”

“You-you told them?”

“This morning, yes.”

“Oh.” Plopping down in her chair, Jane blew out a gusty sigh.

“Sherlock-I-thank you…”

Shrugging, Sherlock went into the kitchen to take care of the boiling water. Sitting at the table, Jane yawned and rubbed her eyes. Picking up the graffiti picture, Jane looked it over.

“So, ‘Nine mill’…?” Jane asked Sherlock as he poured her some tea.

“Million.” Sherlock corrected her as he poured his own.

“Yeah. ‘Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway. Was the last bit information about where to find me?”

“The location, yes. It was an instruction to all of their operatives in London.”

“Oh, I see.”

Getting up, Jane opened the cupboards. She loved Mrs. Hudson for restocking their food at some point today, she had to remember to thank her. Popping in some toast for herself and Sherlock, Jane continued the conversation.

“And this jade pin? Is it the ‘treasure’ they’re after?”

“Correct. It’s worth nine million pounds, and the job was to bring it to their hideout.”

“Wait a minute! A stupid pin was worth nine million?? Who’d waste so much money on that?” Jane blew out an exasperated sigh as the toast popped.

“Rich people and smugglers apparently.” Sherlock dryly commented.

“But why so much for something ridiculous like a hair pin?”

“You really need to brush up on your historical artifacts Jane. If a pin is worth that much, it is most likely it is hundreds, if not thousands years old.” Sherlock reproached her.

Shaking her head, she plopped a piece of toast on his plate. Hearing her phone ring, Jane resisted to roll her eyes when she saw the Caller I.D.

“Hang on, it’s my Mum.” Answering, Jane walked into the living room.

“Hello?”

“Jane! About time you actually answered the bloody phone!” Her mother snapped on the other line.

“I’ve been busy Mum. What do you want?” Jane tiredly asked.

“I want to know when you’re coming back to Truro.”

“I don’t know. I’ve just got a job at a clinic, and it keeps me in London.”

“Well then I’ll come and visit you.”

“For the day…?” Jane asked hopefully.

“For the week.”

“Mum, no. I have a flat mate, and there really isn’t any room for you to stay here.”

“You have a flat mate now? Why didn’t I know this??”

“It’s not a big deal, okay?”

“Oh yes it is! Now tell me, what is she like?”

“He’s… not a she.” Jane admitted weakly, taking a slow breath.

“You...are...sharing a flat with a man, unmarried?!” Jane held the phone away from her ear as her mother shrieked.

“Give me a minute to explain, yeah?? He and I aren’t a couple! We are just two friends, who split the rent! See, this is why I never said anything, ‘cause you’d go on a rampage if I said something!”

After a long pause, her mother sighed.

“I apologise Jane that was a bit not good.”

“It's fine Mum.”

“If I can’t go to London though, you need to come to Truro.”

Jane remembered when she last visited two months ago. To summarize her visit, Jane and her Mother fought from day one to day three about Jane moving to London for good. Her Mother was so angry she was leaving Truro for good, that she kept a good bit of Jane’s things.

“I’ll think about it. When I get back though…can I have my book back? …Please?” Jane asked.

“You mean ‘A Tale of Two Cities’?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to now Jane, but…I can’t. Not now.”

“Mum, what did you do?” Jane asked, clenching the phone, dread in her stomach.

“I sold it.”

“You what?! Mum, that was my book!!! Where did you sell it?”

“To a book collector, a few towns over.” Swallowing hard, Jane clenched her fist.

“How could you? That was the book Grandmum gave me! _Grandmum_! I loved that book!”

“Jane, I’m sorry! But Jane, It was just a _book_!”

“It wasn’t a book, it was the book that Grandmum and I read together, it is-”

One of the only things I have of hers.

“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Hanging up, Jane looked up at the ceiling.

She sold it! Her Mother actually sold her book! How could she do that?

“Family troubles?”

Cursing inwardly, Jane looked over at Sherlock. She had completely forgotten he was there.

“You just witnessed a good example as to why my Mum and I don’t see each other often. Every time I visit, it’s either we are fighting, or trying to work it out.” Jane growled angrily, sipping her now tepid tea.

“What was the book?” Face lighting up, Jane smiled.

“I wish you could’ve seen it Sherlock. It was a beautiful book! The cover was a dark red, the lettering was gold, and there were some of the most gorgeous illustrations in it! It was printed in 1859, so that’s what made the book so valuable.” Jane chatted, a smile on her face.

“A Tale of Two Cities.” Sherlock predicted.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“You are describing what the first edition of the book looked like, and the date it was published.”

“Yep. Mum probably made a ton of money off that book though. It was worth a lot.”

“And your Grandmother gave that to you. ”

“A lot of my valuable stuff came from my Grandmum. She gave it to me for Christmas one year. In the book, she wrote me a little note, and then let me have it. My Dad was so angry that she gave it to a six year old girl instead of a historian.”

Blinking, Sherlock looked over at Jane. Jane almost never mentioned her father.

“But I guess it doesn’t matter right? It was just a book.” Jane mumbled sadly, finishing her breakfast.

This made Sherlock angry. It was most certainly not ‘ _just a book_ ’, it was Jane’s book. Something that she had loved and treasured, a book that was probably her safe haven whenever her parents fought. He imagined she’d read the book, idolize the protagonists, envision the city, and revelled in the words. And something that had made her feel safe, was ripped away from her.

“Oi, you okay? You’re glaring.” Jane pointed out, biting into her toast.

“Yes, of course. Are you done eating?” He unintentionally snapped.

Finishing up her toast, Jane nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

“Get a shower, then get ready to go, we need to do a few errands.”

Sighing, Jane cleared away their dishes.

“The case isn’t closed is it?”

“It almost is. There are a few loose ends we need to tie. Now go.”

Giving him a sarcastic salute, Jane marched off to the bathroom.

***

Twenty minutes later, they were back in yet another cab.

“I think I might shoot someone if I ever get stuffed into another cab.”

“Load your gun then. Unless you want to walk, cases often require a car.”

“Then why don’t you just bloody buy a car?” Jane asked, looking at him.

“What, why?”

“I dunno, we have to drive around all the time anyway, might as well.”

“And where, do you suggest we would store the car? In the landing?” Sherlock arched his eyebrow. 

“We could find a parking garage. ”

“The nearest one is a thirty minutes’ walk.”

“Oh. Well hang that then. Why don’t we just take buses?” 

“Try riding in one for a week, then tell me how you feel.”

"I used to ride in them a lot in University. I couldn’t afford a car.” 

“And yet you were studying as a Doctor.”

“I got most of that by my scholarships, the rest from…where are we heading off to?” Changing the subject, Jane looked at the passing cars.

“We’re going to have a word with Vancoon’s former assistant.” 

“Why?” Smiling at her, Sherlock didn’t answer.

Of course the “mysterious” man wanted to surprise her. Figures.

*** 

“Oh, good morning Mr. Holmes. How can I help you?” Amanda asked pleasantly, folding her hands together.

“He bought you a little present.” Sherlock said, standing over her.

“The lotion, yes. What of it?” 

“No, not the lotion. Another present, his last one.” Biting her lip, Amanda fiddled with the pin in her hair.

“Ye-yeah…” Noticing the attitude change, understanding reached Jane’s features.

“Amanda…you weren’t only his personal assistant, were you?” Jane asked. 

“Someone’s been gossiping.” Amanda defended herself, looking up at them .

“No.” Sherlock shook his head. 

“Then I’m afraid that I don’t understand how you know.”

“I read between the lines. How Sherlock knew though…” 

Giving him a chance to show off, Jane gave him a _go for it_ look. 

“Soap, three hundred millimetres of it to be exact.”

“Eddie Vancoon was never the type to buy hand soap, unless he was having a woman over, and the fact the soap is the same brand as your lotion.”

Wringing her hands, Amanda looked down. 

“It…wasn’t serious between Eddie and me. I mean, he was my boss, it would never have worked out.” She said mournfully.

_Is she convincing us or herself?_ Jane thought, looking at the woman.

“Tell me Amanda…why were you the one to end it?” Jane softly questioned her.

“I thought that he didn’t appreciate me. Didn’t love me. Eddie was always standing me up. We’d planned to go somewhere over the weekend, and then he’d fly off to China.”

“He brought you a gift while abroad to say sorry.” Sherlock noted. 

“Why-yes.” Looking at the pin in her hair, Sherlock narrowed his eyes. 

“May I…see that?” Noticing where he was looking, she nodded and handed it to him. 

“He said he bought it in a Street Market.”

“I doubt that was true. I believe he stole It.” 

“Well that is Eddie for you.” Amanda laughed dolefully.

“He didn’t know its value, just thought it’d be good for you.” Sherlock stated, handing the Jade pin back. 

“Do you know the value?” Amanda inquired curiously, fiddling with it. 

“Plan for an early retirement Amanda.” Sherlock smirked. 

“Is it worth a lot?” 

“If you consider nine million pounds to be ‘a lot’, then yes.” 

Mouth dropping open, Amanda looked at the pin. 

“Are-are you j-joking?”

“He doesn’t joke, not often anyway.” Jane said, looking at the pin in awe. 

“I-I could do so much with this money!! Nine million?!” Amanda laughed shakily. 

“I would call an art curator soon.” 

Nodding at her, Sherlock and Jane left her office. 

“That was a very kind thing for you to do Sherlock.” 

Watching his face immediately return to a cold, stoic, and indifferent expression, he shrugged. 

“It would save time to already know the price.” Sherlock said, his voice indifferent. 

Why did he always get so defensive if we was caught doing something genuinely kind? There was nothing wrong with a little benevolence from Mr. Sunshine every now and again.

“Well, if it isn’t the crime solving duo!” They heard Sebastian say loudly, walking up to them.

Mouth twitching, Sherlock glared at him.

“Sebastian.” Sherlock sneered. 

“Sherlock, why don’t you get us a cab? I’ll be down with you in five.” Looking sharply at her with surprise, Sherlock reluctantly walked away. 

“So, what’s the hole?”

“Your balconies and windows. Sherlock was able to open them without triggering any alarms.” Jane answered.

“Ah, I see.” Filling out a cheque, Sebastian looked at her.

“How is life with the sod? About ready to call it quits with him?”

“Oh no, no, it's quite opposite actually. I’m about to sign a two year lease to officially live at our flat.” Jane smiled pleasantly. 

“I see. How do you put up with him, day in, day out?”

“It’s easy.” Jane said shortly, taking the cheque from him. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I would.” Jane suddenly snapped, making Sebastian flinch a little.

“Because I listen to him. Because I take the time of day to try and reach him halfway, try my best to understand him. And you know what? I’m probably one of the few people he’s met who has tried, and not given up!” Glaring at him, she jammed the cheque into her wallet. 

“I have no idea what went on between you and Sherlock, but you shouldn’t treat him like a circus freak!”

“Why can’t I call something for what it is?” Sebastian jeered, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“The same reason I can’t call you for what you are.” 

“And what am I then, Doctor Watson? ”

“A snake is the thing I’d call you. Now that this case is finished, you stay away from Sherlock Holmes and myself. I better not see you step a toe near Baker Street, am I clear?” 

“You don’t know the history between him and I.” 

“I’d like to though.”

“Hm. He was a brilliant guy, always was. Just a freak. I felt sorry for the poor guy, so I befriended him. Sherlock manipulated me however. We could have been friends, him and I, so I was quite sorry when it turned out the way it did.” Silent, Jane stared stonily at him. 

“Satisfied?”

“What makes you think I’d listen to you? I’m actually quite good at telling when someone is a liar. I meant what I said, by the way. I never want to see you again, neither does Sherlock. Good day.”

Walking out, Jane felt loads lighter. She’d been wanting to tell that ponce off the moment she’d met him. And when she got the cheque, nothing was holding her back.

“You took your time.” Sherlock commented as she made her way down.

“Sorry about that, I had straighten up some things.” Jane said coolly, getting into the cab.

“Is that so?” 

“Yep. But imagine though, a pin worth nine million, and it was on her bedside table.” Jane sighed, shaking her head.

“And Vancoon didn’t know why they were chasing him, he didn’t know the value.”

“Well, he should’ve simply invested into getting her a lucky cat.” Jane snorted, making Sherlock chuckle as well. 

“Seriously though, we’re keeping the Lucky Cat?” 

“Yes.” Looking out the window, Sherlock seemed lost in thought.

“About General Shan…you don’t mind that she escaped, do you? Just getting her henchmen wasn’t enough, she’s still out there.” 

“The Black Market is a vast network. The Black Locus, you and I, we barely scratch the surface.”

“But you cracked the code! Perhaps Dimmock or Lestrade could use the code to track down more operatives-”

“-I cracked this code. All they have to do is just get another code. We won’t find her again Jane.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Hearing her cell phone ring, she picked up.

“Lestrade, hey. What? Where? No, we’re not busy, Sherlock and I will be there. Where’s the address?” Scribbling down a note on an old napkin, Jane hung up.

“Driver! We need to change course!” 

“Gonna cost ya extra Love!” 

“A murder?” Sherlock asked, looking at her.

“Yeah.” 

Arriving, Jane and Sherlock entered the apartment. 

“We looked at her heel, she had the Black Locus tattoo.” Lestrade said, showing them in.

Gripping Sherlock’s arm, Jane put a hand to her mouth in surprise. “Sherlock! That's-!”

“…You might know her formally as General Shan.”

Looking at the bullet between her eyes, Jane looked at the wound. 

“It’s a sniper shot.” She noted, looking at the broken glass from where the bullet came from. 

Pulling on his leather gloves, Sherlock opened the laptop to find it blank. 

“This is where having an on-hand hacker would come in handy.” Jane said, rubbing her eyes.

“Sherlock, got anything?” Twitching his mouth, Sherlock looked agitated. 

“Most likely her boss decided to have her killed due to failure.” 

“Yeah, but can you find out where the boss is?” 

Annoyed, Sherlock exhaled slowly. 

“You don’t know, do you?” Jane looked up at Sherlock sympathetically.

Looking away, Sherlock felt angry. He hated when Jane gave him sympathy, it made him feel small and quite inferior.

“Yes, well, I shall develop a sound analysis of the situation with time and thought.” Sherlock shortly stated, walking out. 

“Sherlock!” Trying to catch up with him, Jane broke into a jog.

“You can’t win them all you know.” 

“This makes sense, but it doesn’t.” Sherlock growled, ruffling his hair.

“This whole thing?” 

“Everything. General Shan’s death was foreseeable.” Sherlock noted.

"Why?"

Quiet, for a moment, Sherlock chose to change the subject. 

“Do you know this case has been going on for nearly four days now?”

"Stop trying to change the subject Sherlock. How was her death foreseeable?" 

"...I believe we are all involved in a much bigger plan than we realise Jane."  
He would leave it at that for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of this story! Until the next story!

**Author's Note:**

> Sebastian...ugh. Sebastian... just sucks. 'nuff said.


End file.
